A War of Balance - A TYBW Reimagining
by CohenTyPa
Summary: The arrival of Karakura Town's new guardian Shinigami heralds the beginning of the end as a millennia-old war reignites, and Kurosaki Ichigo and his friends are pulled into the conflict. A take on the Thousand-Year Blood War that refocuses the major themes around the concept of Balance.
1. Chapter 1

**A War of Balance****:**

**A TYBW Reimagining**

**Chapter 1**

Yuki Ryūnosuke stood dozing outside of the 13th Division barracks. His new assignment had come through the week before, and today was the day he'd be deployed as one of the new guardian Shinigami of Karakura Town in the living world. It was an exciting new direction for his career, but also a frightening one. In the end, his nerves got the better of him, and he didn't sleep much at all the night before.

He could barely keep his eyes open, and the pleasantly cloudy sky overhead wasn't helping. It was the perfect weather for a nice, long nap. He could picture it clearly; lying in a hammock, rocking gently in the comfortably chilly breeze. What he wouldn't give to push his deployment back a day so he could make that dream a reality.

Maybe, if he was quick, he could go do it before he had to leave. It wouldn't take long at all if he limited himself to a half-hour nap . . . or two. Really the whole event could wait for him, couldn't it? It wasn't like they could transfer guardian duties without one of the new guardians present, right?

His mind made up, Ryūnosuke turned to head back to the barracks. He didn't have all day, much to his dismay, so he had to go as soon as possible.

"And where do you think you're going?" A familiar voice called out to him, giving him a start. He looked around, but didn't see anyone he knew. Until she slapped him upside the head, that is. "Over here, idiot."

Ryūnosuke turned to face his attacker, "Ouch! Don't hit me like that, Shino-san!"

"You won't see me if I don't!" Madarame Shino's eyebrows twitched with irritation, making a bulging vein on her rather large forehead jiggle. "Hurry and wake up already. We'll be leaving for the mission soon."

"Yeah, but . . ." Ryūnosuke wilted. He wouldn't be getting that nap after all, it seemed. "We don't have to head out right away, so can't we relax for a little while longer?"

"What? Are you scared or something?"

"Not exactly. I'm just a little nervous. Karakura Town's supposed to have a high Hollow appearance rate and all." Ryūnosuke slunk back under Shino's disapproving glare, "And there's that Shinigami Representative that's supposed to be real strong there already, so we shouldn't have to rush. And-"

"Quit being such a wuss!" Shino exploded, looming over Ryūnosuke and jamming a finger into his chest. "We're both going specifically so that we don't have to ask the Representative for help! And with two Shinigami, a few extra Hollows are no problem! And don't give me that 'I'm nervous' bull either. We were _chosen_ for this mission. So don't go acting like you're fresh out of the academy!" Shino's voice died down and she heaved angrily at her partner.

Ryūnosuke took this opportunity to slip out from under the taller Shinigami. "Ok, ok. I get it." He rubbed his chest where Shino's finger prodded and pouted. "But what do you expect me to do about being chosen? It's a big honor and all, but I-"

"Oh stop whining already! Just stick out your chest and act like you deserve to given the responsibility, will ya." Shino pounded her modest chest with her fist, and Ryūnosuke laughed." What? What's so funny?"

Although Ryūnosuke tried to stifle it, he simply wasn't strong enough. "No, it's just . . . sticking out your chest wouldn't amount to much for yo-!" A solid fist crashed into Ryūnosuke's smiling face, sending him bouncing along the road.

It wasn't the ideal he had hoped for, but he got his nap in the end.

\+ break +

Ryūnosuke and Shino stood stiffly before the towering Senkaimon gate. In just a few minutes, they would be embarking on their first solo mission into the living world. Even Shino, with all of her bravado and talk of confidence, shifted her weight uneasily. Ryūnosuke poked at the large, fist-shaped limps on his face, wincing at the dissipating pain. He was thankful for the distraction, at least.

He'd likely have to put up with many injuries like these going forward, but that wasn't the worst thing in the world. He'd happily put up with a few bumps and bruises if it meant someone had his back, and having someone familiar around was kind of a relief. Even if she did have a horrible temper when it came to her flat chest.

The Senkaimon gate lit up, coming to life as a swirling vortex. This gate would take them straight to Karakura Town and away from their comfortable, simple lives of busy work within the Seireitei. Ryūnosuke took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Ah! I'm glad I made it before you left!" Someone called out to the pair just before they stepped through the gate. Both of their shoulders jumped when they turned to find the Captain of the 13th Division strolling up to them. "Yuki Ryūnosuke and Madarame Shino . . . I thought I'd come by and see you off on your first major assignment."

Ukitake Jūshirō stood tall over the two novice Shinigami, giving off a friendly aura despite his position. That he would come all this way to see them off, despite his dubious health, was a tremendous honor. And whole new source of nerves. Ryūnosuke and Shino stood at attention, unsure of how to respond.

The Captain chuckled, "No need to be so stiff. I can see that you're nervous, and I assumed that you would be. Most of the time we'd send more experienced Shinigami on missions like these. However, it was decided that you both showed great promise, and so would be sent out together in the hopes that you will help each other grow." He placed a hand on each of their shoulders. His long, boney fingers-gaunt like the rest of his body-held them in a comforting grip. "Tell me, did you two know that Shinigami were once called 'Balancers'?"

Ryūnosuke blinked, realizing the question was not rhetorical. "Yes, sir. Of course."

"Good. That title was in many ways far more appropriate for the job we do. All worlds, the living world, Soul Society, and even the Hollow realm of Hueco Mundo, exist in equilibrium. Every soul, alive or dead, resides in one of these worlds. When someone in the living world passes, we shepherd their soul here, to Soul Society. When denizens of our world here die, the reverse is true. Even the lost souls of Hollows are our responsibility to purify. In doing so, we shift the balance of souls, hopefully towards the ideal equilibrium. Now, do you know why I'm telling you this?"

Ryūnosuke and Shino looked at each other and shook their heads. Ukitake laughed and rested his hands on his hips. "I say this because the balance that we Shinigami represent is present in all facets of life. There are living people, so there are Hollows to prey on them. There are Hollows, so there are Shinigami to purify them. And there are Shinigami, so living people can live out their lives peacefully. The one and only piece of advice I will leave you with before you set off is this: Find the balance between yourselves and the world around you. Find the balance between yourselves and the Hollows you come across. And finally, find the balance between the two of you. Work together and grow."

It could be hard to take the Captain of the 13th Division seriously at times. After all, how could you put your faith in a leader that couldn't stand in the sun too long without keeling over? That was often how Ryūnosuke felt about the man, but now, looking up into his Captain's stern, confident eyes, he felt inspired by him. Captain Ukitake believed in them, genuinely. That alone blew all of the nerves away.

"Alright, I've said my piece. Now, you two get out there and show Karakura Town what you're made of." Ukitake waved the pair off and turned to leave. They watched him go for several seconds, but he never looked back. He trusted them to do their best.

Ryūnosuke and Shino looked at each other with renewed confidence. They were partners in this mission. As long as they could strike a balance between them, everything should turn out well. With a synchronized breath, the pair stepped through the Senkaimon gate.

And out into the night sky above Karakura Town.

"Oh, finally! You certainly took your time, didn't you?" A Shinigami with a prodigious afro stood in the air with his arms crossed. His eyebrows, almost as thick and bushy as the bulb of hair on his head, twitched.

Ryūnosuke bowed his head slightly, "Ah, yeah, sorry about that." Shino followed suit, though her bow was considerably more shallow.

The afro man's shoulders rolled in an exaggerated sigh. "It's fine, it's fine. As long as you're aware of your mistakes. You can't learn to walk without stumbling a few times. And just so you know, that goes double for the job you'll be taking over." He waved his arms in a flourish that ended in a confident wink and a thumbs up, and introduced himself in a loud voice. "As I'm sure you've heard, my name is Kurumadani Zennosuke, now former guardian of Karakura Town! You two, Yuki-kun and Madarame-kun! From now on, you will be taking over my duties here. Do your best, and don't get too caught up in trying to reach my level. Got it?"

Kurumadani barely gave a moment for the pair to nod their heads before continuing. "The job speaks for itself for the most part, so work hard at exterminating Hollows, and someday you might be as great as me!" With a casual salute and an unsettling wink, Kurumadani disappeared into the Senkaimon gate, leaving Ryūnosuke and Shino alone.

The former guardian's sudden exit left an awkward silence that made Ryūnosuke's skin itch.

"If someone like that can handle this job, we shouldn't have any issues." Shino said, scanning the shadowy horizon with a flat gaze. "Well, better get started. You check the area south of here. I'll head north. We'll meet up here around sunrise, alright?"

"Wait, we aren't going to make the rounds together?"

"Why would we do that? What's the point of sending two of us if we just stick to each other? Talk about a waste of time." Shino looked into Ryūnosuke's nervous eyes and her face scrunched up. "You aren't scared, are you? We just got here."

Ryūnosuke stuck out his chest and spoke firmly, "I am scared!"

"Quit being such a baby!" He was only being honest, but she yelled at him anyway. Fixing the fabric she wore in her hair, Shino turned, "Whatever. I'm going to get started. Go off on your own and try to grow a spine." She leaped away, sticking to a row of nearby rooftops. "And don't slack off either," she called back.

"But what about that thing the Captain told us about?" Ryūnosuke muttered to himself. He turned to take off in the opposite direction, like Shino said, but his motivation was shot. He'd never been to this place before, so how was he supposed to know where to look for Hollows? And wouldn't it be better to wait until morning so they can get a better look at the town, instead of trying to remember the layout in the dark?

Honestly, Shino could be so bullheaded sometimes. Maybe she got it from her brother. He was in the 11th division, apparently, and everyone knew those guys were a bunch of muscle brained thugs . . . or so Ryūnosuke thought.

He'd never say that to her face, though.

Hopping along at a lackadaisical pace, Ryūnosuke occupied his mind with worries. They were supposed to spend most all of their time in Karakura Town as long as they were assigned there. That meant they needed to arrange a place to stay. Sleeping on a bench didn't sound very appealing even if no one would be able to see him do it. And what about food? Water could probably be found easily enough, but they couldn't waltz into a restaurant and place an order. Then again, food delivery services were on the rise in Soul Society, so maybe the living world had something similar.

It would be nice if he could get some cold soba.

Just then, he heard a sharp noise. It was startling, embarrassingly so, but a quick check revealed nothing special. "Probably just a cat or something . . . I wonder if it's still around." He'd heard that animals like cats were far more sensitive to the spiritual world than human beings, so maybe he could even pass some time playing with it.

Ryūnosuke wore a silly grin as he called to the unseen feline. His head was filled with visions of parting ways with Shino each night and coming to spend time with a furry friend. Now _that_ would make this mission a little more enjoyable. That was hoping for too much, however.

He heard the sharp noise again, but this time it was closer and harsher, and there was no mistaking what would make a sound like that. It was definitely not a cat. Ryūnosuke froze as he met a monstrous Hollow rounding a corner. The creature's lone eye, centered on its skull, shot to him. It stopped and tilted its head, making its long teeth, already arranged in what seemed like a grin on a skull-like face, look even more sinister. Its torso was a mass of bulging muscles, and each rippling arm ended in a long sword like leg stalk similar to a spider's. Ryūnosuke caught a brief glimpse of the thing's lower body, looking like the back half of a giant snake but covered in fur.

For a moment, he and the Hollow traded surprised stares, but that peaceful shock wasn't to last. Ryūnosuke turned on the spot and fled with all his strength. He let out a terrified wail as he leaped through the air, the Hollow hot on his heels.

It was way too strong and way too horrible for him to handle on his own, so he retraced his steps the best he could, heading in the direction he remembered Shino going. "Shino-san! I found one!" He cried, dodging this way and that, barely escaping the spiking blows of the monster howling behind him. "Please, Shino-san! You yell at me all you want! I'll even let you hit me a bunch! So give me a hand! Shino-san!"

As horribly frightened as he was, Ryūnosuke felt the edges of his mouth start to perk up. He wasn't the battle oriented type, but actually asking Shino to hit him or make fun of him was so strange. It would have actually made him laugh he wasn't already crying out. In an odd sort of way, he was looking forward to Shino's overaggressive criticism. "Shi-" He cried out again, but the sound died in his throat.

Bracing himself against a the wall of a roof access staircase, he witnessed something far more terrifying than the Hollow chasing him.

There were at least four of them, all twice as big as the one closing in on him. They were all gathered together, their eyes fixed on something in one of the creatures' hands. It was a body. No, it was Shino! Her body was limp and clutched loosely a Hollow's fist. Spots of blood stained the thing's fingers curling around her.

Ryūnosuke drew his Zanpakuto with a shaky hand. It was only the two of them there. He was the only one who could save her. But . . . his legs shook and his vision lost focus. His breathing was shallow and all of a sudden he was feeling lightheaded. _I have to . . save Shino-san . . . _He forced himself to take a step forward. Then the Hollow chasing him caught up, and he was too focused on Shino that he didn't notice it's leg, like a deadly spike, was poised to crush him.

With the added shock of a surprise attack, Ryūnosuke was knocked away like a doll. His body bounced across the rooftop, leaving a small pool of blood behind. By the time his mind caught up with what had happened, he could no longer move. His body was numb, save for a dull, cold ache across the side of his face and down his neck. _No . . . way. How could one hit . . . do this?_ His consciousness was fading quickly, but he still found Shino with his one good eye. _She's not moving . . . at all. We're going to die. I don't want that! I don't . . . want to die. I want to save . . . Shino-san!_

In a flash that left spots in his vision, the Hollow looming over Ryūnosuke and the one holding Shino were cut down.

Ryūnosuke's good eye opened wide as a man in a black shihakushō, the same as he wore, appeared on the roof.

"I'd heard Afro-san was being replaced," the man said, addressing Ryūnosuke without looking at him, "so I take it that you guys are supposed to be the new guardians? You better get it together. If you can't do more than that guy, then you're pretty much useless."

"Who . . ." Ryūnosuke tired to ask the unknown Shinigami who he was, but he was having trouble breathing.

The orange haired Shinigami drew his Zanpakuto, a large chunk of metal with a chain attached to the hilt. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, Shinigami Representative."


	2. Chapter 2

**A War of Balance****:**

**A TYBW Reimagining**

**Chapter 2**

"Hollows!" Ryūnosuke sat up, frantically pushing a thin comforter off of his chest. Beads of sweat cooled his face and neck as he took in his surroundings. This wasn't the rooftop where the Hollows appeared, so where . . .?

"Quit yelling!" A young man with orange hair scolded him and threw something at his face. Ryūnosuke yelped when the small bread roll flew through his face. "Go ahead and eat that," the orange haired youth pointed and sounded annoyed, "Your Gigai's right there."

Following the gesture, Ryūnosuke found his own body, lifeless, almost like a corpse. He nearly fell off the bed he was so shocked.

The guy with the orange hair ignored him and sat on the floor with three others. All young, like him, and all somehow familiar. They were eating bread, like the roll that was chucked through Ryūnosuke. None of them seemed at all bothered by the seemingly dead person lying in bed.

"Are you sure these are alright to eat, Inoue? If they were thrown out they must be pretty bad, or stale." The orange haired youth complained and stuffed a roll into his mouth.

"I guarantee that's not the case!" A young woman with long hair responded with a bright smile that completely deflected the negative comment. She, apparently, was the one who brought the bread. "There's nothing wrong with them. These are just leftovers, so they said I could take them!"

A large, muscular man took large, contemplative bites from a roll. He nodded his head, "Taste fine to me."

The fourth member of the group, a stern-looking young man with glasses shot the orange haired guy a sharp glare. "Show some gratitude. She brought all of this over, so you could at least hold your complaints."

A vein popped out of orange hair's neck, and he returned the glare. This all seemed so familiar. "Who asked you? And I don't see _you_ chowing down. You sure you don't have a problem with Inoue's bread, huh?"

"I'm simply waiting for everyone else to start. It's called manners, you oaf."

"Shut it! Is this how a guest with manners treats their host?"

"It is when the host is an ungrateful punk like you."

Orange hair and glasses were at each other's throats, but the other two just sat by, happily eating bread. They didn't seem to mind that a fight was about to break out in front of them. Was this normal? And why did it all seem _so familiar_?

"Ah!" Ryūnosuke's mind raced and suddenly he was back on the rooftop, beaten and barely conscious. The orange haired youth was standing over him, Zanpakutō in hand. He'd just introduced himself.

Kurosaki Ichigo.

\+ Fade +

"Inoue, take care of this guy real quick." He'd said, speaking to someone out of Ryūnosuke's limited sight.

"Already on it. Just a few more seconds and he'll be safe." It was a girl's voice, the voice of the one that brought the bread, he now realised. "I'll finish healing him when we're all done." He noticed Shino lying next to him, her wounds appeared to be closed. That was good.

A pair of large Hollows leaped at Ichigo while his back was turned, but he noticed and spun on them, striking one down with little effort. The other Hollow was taken out by a powerful punch from the big guy. "Chad," Ichigo called him.

Several more Hollows appeared, flying down from above, or climbing up from below, and charged. The front line of them was decimated in one, incredible blast of spiritual power. The guy with glasses stepped up beside Ichigo, trailing Reishi. "Letting so many get close? You're getting careless, Kurosaki."

"Did you just come to give me shit, cause I don't wanna hear it, Ishida!"

Inoue stepped around Ryūnosuke and Shino to join the others, offering them a reassuring smile on her way.

For some reason, looking at those four youths standing firm against a steadily growing mob of Hollows, Ryūnosuke felt as safe as if he were back in the Seireitei, as far from danger as possible.

\+ Fade +

And then he passed out, apparently. That was where his memories of the event ended. It was quite a shock.

"Ahhh!" Ryūnosuke recoiled as recollection beat him over the head and he fully recognized the people in front of him. The ones that saved his life.

"I told you to quit yelling!" Ichigo turned to scold him again.

"You-You-You're the ones that saved us yesterday!" Just getting the words out was a struggle as Ryūnosuke grappled with his gratitude. What was the proper procedure for thanking someone that saved your life?

"Did you just realize?" Ichigo stared at him. It wasn't _that_ strange, was it? Waking up after suffering a traumatic injury did things to your memory, didn't it?! "And by the way, it wasn't yesterday. Try two days ago."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah," The girl, Inoue, chimed in, "I was surprised you didn't wake up at all yesterday. I was worried my healing might have gotten messed up somehow."

Ryūnosuke was stunned. His first day on the job and he'd been defeated by Hollows. And to add insult to injury, he'd spent the day after asleep. Where was the potential that the Captain had pointed to in selecting him for this position? What kind of guardian has to rely on a bunch of local kids to come to his rescue?

Except, these weren't _just some local kids_, were they? Kurosaki Ichigo . . . That was the name of the Shinigami Representative in Karakura Town. He'd said so himself. He was a pretty famous figure in the Seireitei, especially in the 13th Division barracks. He was a close friend of Lieutenant Kuchiki, after all. His friends were also pretty well known.

But for them to be _that_ powerful, taking on such a large horde of Hollows, was unbelievable. With a group like that around, why even bother sending a guardian in the first place? With both he and Shino present, it was like the Shinigami were doubly wasting their time. Speaking of which . . .

"Hey, what happened to Shino-san? The girl that was with me? Is she-"

"I'm back." The door opened and Shino walked through. "I got some cola." She said, and then noticed Ryūnosuke sitting on the bed. Tears welled up in her eyes and she dropped a bag filled with bottles of cola. "Ryūnosuke . . ."

"Shino-san! I'm so glad you're-" Before Ryūnosuke could express his relief, Shino's shoulder crashed into his face.

"You little wuss!" Shino slammed him down and berated him for making her worry. "Sleeping a whole day? Are you trying to kill me? What was I supposed to do if you'd kicked the bucket, huh?" She wrapped her arm around his head and squeezed. "My wounds were way worse than yours, and I still got up right away! So what's your excuse?"

"Wait, Shino-san, that hurts!"

"Tough! This is what lazy wusses like you get for sleeping all day!"

"Alright, that's enough!" Ichigo grabbed both of the rookie guardians and threw them to the floor. "You're messing up my bed. You," he said, pointing at Ryūnosuke, "get in the Gigai and eat. And you," he turned his attention to Shino, "be more careful with drinks you buy with other people's money!"

The pair did as they were told. Ryūnosuke jumped into his Gigai and took an open space around the leftover bread, while Shino took on the responsibility of opening each and every drink to make sure they didn't fizz up. It felt like a punishment, but they weren't being treated all that poorly. Partially stale bread was hardly cold soba, but as he took his first few bites, Ryūnosuke realized that he hadn't eaten in over a day.

"You sure can pack it down, huh." Ichigo joined the group and took an open drink from Shino. "So, what's your deal then? We've already gotten a proper greeting from Shino here."

Ryūnosuke's shoulders jumped. _That's right! I need to introduce myself to the people that saved my life!_ He spun on the spot and bowed his head formally. "Mm Fmam Ib-"

"Swallow first, dammit!"

He swallowed the big bite of bread in his mouth and began again. "Sorry. My name is Yuki Ryūnosuke, guardian Shinigami of Karakura Town. Pleasure to meet you!" A piece of bread bounced off his head.

"Are you stupid? Thank them for rescuing us and apologize for all the trouble we've caused!" Shino growled.

"But, Shino-san, shouldn't you have already done that? Why should I?"

"Because it's polite!" She reached over the bread and grappled him, forcing the words out of his mouth.

"Th-Thank you for saving us! And we're sorry for all the trouble!" Shino released her hold and, satisfied, took a small bite out of her own piece of bread. Ryūnosuke didn't turn away, though. "Really, Kurosaki-san, I'm sorry for being a burden for so long. We've only just started and already we've made a pretty horrible first impression."

Ichigo nodded. "That's true. But you'll have plenty of time to pay me back."

Ryūnosuke bowed his head again, deeper this time. "Thank you, Kurosaki-san. Truly."

"Don't mention it."

The rookie guardian held his bow until Ichigo kicked him.

\+ Break +

By the time the bread was gone, both Ryūnosuke and Shino had visibly relaxed. They sat back and chatted casually.

That wasn't surprising. Kurosaki and the others had a knack for making fast friends . . . somehow. To this day, the way they could simply offer a helping hand to someone and gain their trust didn't make any sense to Ishida Uryu. Even though it had worked on him in the past.

It was a conundrum. He felt so relaxed in this cramped bedroom, surrounded by friends. People he'd endangered and openly threatened, who still smiled when they saw him. He'd become so used to it, it was easy to forget his shameful actions when he first met Kurosaki Ichigo. But now, that forgettable uneasiness was pressuring his comfortable happiness.

And he couldn't say anything to them. Not now, anyway.

"Alright, I'd like to make the most out of my days off, so let's get started." Kurosaki slapped his knees and stood. He sounded unusually motivated.

"Umm, Kurosaki-san?" The heavy sleeper, Ryūnosuke, looked up at Kurosaki with the same confusion that Ishida felt. "What exactly are we getting started?"

"Listen here. I'll lend a hand to you guardians when you need it, but barring an emergency, I'd like to live my life in peace. Go to school, hang out with friends, just relax, you know?" He tapped Ryūnosuke on the head. "But I can't do that if the guys that are supposed to take care of the Hollows can't take care of themselves. So we're having a boot camp. We're going to shadow you two today, and today only, so that you can get your bearings. After that, you're on your own. Got it?"

The rookies stared dumbly at Kurosaki, then at each other, before Shino spoke up. "Wait a second! We can't ask that of you. You've already helped us plenty." The girl acted cool, but she could get flustered easily, it seemed.

"I don't want to hear that now." Kurosaki spoke with a surprisingly commanding voice. Was he actually looking forward to teaching these two? "Look, if it helps you feel any better about it, I'm mostly doing this for my own sake. And besides, Ikkaku will owe me one if I lend you hand."

Shino bowed her head, and Ryūnosuke followed suit. "Thank you very much! We'll be in your care!" She shouted, for some reason. Honestly, Shinigami could be hard to handle sometimes.

Kurosaki then turned to Ishida. "I already talked it over with Chad and Inoue, and they're good to go. You in, Ishida?"

He considered it. Really, he did. Going out with his friends to ensure that these new guardians could do their job at least as well as that guy with the afro seemed like fun. With all four of them, they could probably make them better than the old guardian.

"Sorry, I think I'll sit this one out. I . . . have some errands to run." He turned them down.

"Suit yourself." Kurosaki shrugged. He didn't look too disappointed, thankfully. Though, Inoue definitely was, and could never be too sure what Sado was thinking.

The whole group picked up and filed down out of the Kurosaki household, giving their regards to Kurosaki's younger sisters as they passed. Outside, Ishida split from the group, starting off in the opposite direction.

"Hey Ishida," Kurosaki stopped and called out to him, "If you change your mind, just give us a call. We'll be at it for a while, but don't wait too long."

Ishida turned to look at them all. They were his friends. It was a comfortable thought, but the uneasiness surged. "I'll keep that in mind. Don't teach those two any of your bad habits, Kurosaki."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up and go run your errands."

With that, his friends left. He watched them go, the comfort fading as they grew further and further away. Ishida's uneasiness drove him in the opposite direction. He fished a small bag out of his pocket and inspected the contents. Small, chalky chunks. Fragments of a disk.

Hollow bait.

Memories of his earliest interactions with Kurosaki rushed to the surface. He was so sure of himself then, but now his actions made him queasy. He'd found these fragments after they'd fought off that sudden swarm of Hollows. It wasn't a natural gathering.

Someone was making the same mistake he had back then.

He needed to investigate.


	3. Chapter 3

After scouring the surrounding rooftops, Ishida held a small pile of chalky fragments. Two more chunks, smaller than the ones he'd already held, that was all there was to find. Using more than one disc of Hollow bait was unnecessary. One was enough to have the town crawling with the monsters, so why were the fragments scattered? He dropped the new pieces into the small bag that held the others and considered his options.

He could wait and see what happened next. If he set off to join Kurosaki, he could look out for unusually large groups of Hollows. But that would be a waste. All of them grouped together would be unbeatable by any number short of the full might of Hueco Mundo, but if several spikes of Hollow activity occurred in multiple areas, that strength would be meaningless. Better to stay separated and cast a wider net.

There was the possibility that whoever used the bait might have been targeting the rookie guardians. In that case, joining the boot camp would allow Ishida to watch for suspicious onlookers. But that possibility wasn't any greater than any other. If they weren't being targeted, then it would be a waste of time.

Hollow bait was a Quincy tool, which meant the culprit was likely to be a Quincy. But that simply couldn't be. The only two Quincy remaining were himself and Ishida Ryūken, and he could hardly imagine his father hunting Hollows, let alone drawing them into town with Hollow bait.

Ishida wracked his brain for a solid plan. There were many practical ideas for him to pursue, but ultimately, none of them brought him closer to the answers he sought. He did his best to put one particular solution out of his mind, however. If it were up to him, he wouldn't involve anyone else in this matter. But still, the option remained.

Urahara Shop . . . If he took the bait there, they might be able to glean some clue from the fragments that Ishida himself couldn't. He couldn't imagine _how_ they would manage that, but then again, Urahara Kisuke had a knack for doing the unthinkable.

The more he thought, the more that solution stood out, until he was left with little else to do. Worst case scenario, Urahara finds a clue and then asks for some nonsense favor as payment. Honestly, the man was almost as bad as that mad Gotei Captain.

"I suppose there's nothing for it," Ishida sighed. "I'll just have to-" A flash of white caught his eye. A brief glimpse of flapping white fabric. Ishida nearly dropped the bag of bait in his haste to give chase. Leaping through the air, he was upon the corner where the white fabric disappeared in seconds. And what he found was . . .

Nothing. There was nobody that he could see, and no hanging clothes or windswept articles that he might have mistaken for something more.

"Hmm . . ." Ishida inspected the area more closely. He may have been seeing things, jumping at shadows, as it were, but he may not have been as well. He could not see any evidence that someone had been here, so instead, he _felt _for it. Immediately after focusing his attention on the Reishi of the surrounding area, he felt a response. It was very near, but also quite faint, and it was stationary.

Ishida hesitated. The response he felt was familiar, but also not. What he felt was an area where the Reishi in the atmosphere was less dense. That could have meant any number of things on its own, but there was something else. Reiryoku. Specifically that of a Quincy.

He approached the affected area cautiously. The feeling of unease that had been plaguing him for some time now flared in his chest. It couldn't be a Quincy. They were gone. Aside from himself and Ryūken, no Quincy walked in the living world. That would mean he was being toyed with, and if that were the case . . . What would he do? Responding with violence was obviously off the table until he knew the trickster's intent, but could he control himself when faced with such mockery?

Then again, what if he turned the corner to find a Quincy, alive and well, after believing that he was one of the last for so long? Relief seemed appropriate, as did anger. Anger at his fool of a father who hid the continued existence of the Quincy from him. Anger at the Quincy themselves for keeping themselves hidden.

He shook his head to do away with those damning thoughts. No good could come of them. His next step was clear now. He would go and confront whatever lie just ahead, either way things turned out.

In moments, he was before the source of that eerily familiar feeling. The source was located in a narrow alleyway. Trash cans and dumpsters hugged the walls, making the alley feel even more cramped. He steeled his heart for whatever was there to face him, and he found what he was looking for on a short pile of boxes. It was not a person, Quincy or no. It was a newly crushed disc of Hollow bait.

Ishida spun around, his bow in hand in the blink of an eye. This was a trap, no doubt about it. Not only was the Reishi in the area drained, but the Quincy Reiryoku was planted specifically to lure him into this tight space. A space that was sure to become even tighter as the crushed bait drew in a horde of Hollows. He quickly examined each end of the ally, noting the unusual stillness in the air. Whoever, or whatever it was that wanted to get him into this alley was going to regret underestimating his ability to fight in such a confined space.

His eyes swung from one end of the alley to the other. He focused his spiritual sense above in case an attack came from the tops of the buildings blocking him in. But his unease continued to grow. Even if he could see an attack coming, it was never a good idea to allow himself to be stuck in one place. There were all sorts of potential enemies out there, he'd seen firsthand how varied attacks and strategies could become from low levels to high. The enemy might be weaker than him, but this alleyway could be the perfect environment for their abilities to shine.

In any case, he needed to move, relocate and take up a position that would better serve him. He tried to create footholds in the air, but the Reishi in the area was too thin. If he couldn't rely on Hirenkyaku, then he'd have to make a break for it. Ishida barely took two steps before the sound of boots on pavement echoed throughout the alley.

Someone was behind him.

He spun bow drawn and ready to fire as many arrows as was necessary, but the moment he set eyes on the mysterious enemy, his breath caught. The uneasy feeling surged, sending a numbing shock down his back.

A white hat and a uniform, almost entirely white save for a light blue trim, sent Ishida's mind reeling. If the energy he felt emanating from the person approaching him didn't match the Reiryoku left as a lure, he would have been sure he was seeing things. But he _was_ sure. The man casually walking down the alleyway was a Quincy. "Impossible . . ." Ishida gasped, feeling a tremor travel up his legs.

The man in white stopped and stood with his heels together, one arm at his side, and the other folded behind his back. A light breeze passing between the buildings caught a small cape draped over his shoulders.

"You are Ishida Uryū, I presume?" The man spoke in a deep voice that matched his stature through a thin-lipped smile. The expression he made seemed amicable enough, but his eyes were hidden by a small pair of round, dark glasses. "I'm relieved you answered my invitation. We have many things to discuss."

Ishida almost lost himself in shock. There couldn't possibly be a Quincy standing in front of him. It would be one thing for the mad captain of the Soul Society's 12th Division to lie, and he wouldn't put it past Ryūken either, but what of his master? Would Sōken not have told him if other Quincy still lived?

He narrowed his eyes at the man in the dark glasses. It seemed that the truth of the world was more complicated than he had been led to believe. "Who are you?" he demanded, purposefully keeping his bow drawn.

"Ah, my apologies," the man in white removed his cap, revealing his mostly shaved head with hair combed over one side. "My name is Quilge Opie, retainer of His majesty Ywach, and Sternritter of the Wandenreich," his brow arched, looking as if Ishida should be impressed. He wasn't.

"You're a Quincy. I was under the impression that the last of the Quincy were wiped out 200 years ago," Ishida demanded. He needed to push until he got the answers he was really after.

"The last of the Quincy, you say? 200 years? And yet, here _you_ stand. Am I to believe that Ishida Uryū does not see himself as a Quincy?" Quilge chuckled, a strangled wheezing sound. "Jokes aside, there was indeed a tragic spilling of Quincy blood some 200 years ago, but to assume that those were all that was left of us is pure nonsense." He sounded as if what Ishida had said was preposterous, but he had yet to offer an explanation.

To simply say that there were more Quincy than were killed and that's that was far too easy. He might still not be a Quincy, and this could still be a trap.

That suspicion took root as Ishida felt a spike of spiritual pressure around the alley. The crushed Hollow bait was doing its job, drawing what felt to be dozens of monsters to that tight space. If he'd been the same person he was a few years ago, that might have been an issue, but he had much more experience now and his strength was far greater.

That bait would have to draw in some pretty high ranking Espada to pose a threat to him now. He took a guarded stance, facing down the self-proclaimed Quincy. "What would you do if I said I don't believe you?" He asked, trying to get a rise out of Quilge.

"Hmm," the tall man in white rubbed his chin with a gloved finger, "I suppose I would prove it to you." He gripped the scabbard on his hip, jingling a charm dangling from a thin silver chain. The five points of the Quincy cross were unmistakable.

A cacophony of shrieks and roars tore through the narrow alleyway as dozens of lumbering, monstrous shapes slithered, swung, and leaped toward Ishida and Quilge. Even as they approached to breath down his neck, Ishida kept his eyes glued to Quilge.

"Wonderful timing." Quilge drew his saber. A white-blue glow surrounded the Quincy charm at his waist and spread to the weapon in his hand. Arcs of that same white-blue energy that Ishida was all too familiar with shot out of either side of the blade's guard. It almost resembled a bow. "Tell me, Ishida Uryū, is this proof enough for you?" Blue bolts shot out of the tip of Quilge's sword at the Hollows approaching from behind Ishida. They accurately struck the monsters, obliterating each one in turn. In a flash of white and blue, the several dozen Hollows behind Ishida vanished.

A large Hollow squeezed between the walls of the buildings overhead and slid down to the ground right behind Quilge. Before Ishida could raise his bow, the tall man in white spun and expertly cleaved the creature in two.

Ishida marveled at the effortlessness of it all. Quilge quickly and efficiently cut down every one of the Hollows with impressive grace. The techniques he used were, while not exactly the same, very close to the same ones Ishida would have used.

When the last Hollow vanished, Quilge sheathed his saber and the white-blue glow disappeared. The Reishi in the area began to rise as well. "Well? Surely you would not have me repeat myself." Quilge swept the dust from his shoulder with a quick flick and returned to his earlier straight-backed posture. It was like nothing at all had happened. "Now that you understand, I would like to formally notify you, Ishida Uryū, that you have been summoned to an audience with His majesty Ywach. Please, come with me."

"Wait," as Quilge turned to leave, Ishida spoke, "who is this Ywach, and what does he want from me?"

The tall Quincy stopped and his shoulders seemed to stiffen. He half turned his head to respond. "His majesty is the king of all Quincy, boy. You would do well not to speak his name so lightly. And His majesty's desires are not for anyone, you or I, to question." His expression seemed level enough, but he couldn't hide the scowl in his voice. "Now, come along. We must not keep His majesty waiting." Taking advantage of the rising Reishi levels, Quilge created a platform of spiritual energy beneath his feet and leaped up into the air.

Ishida hesitated. He couldn't deny what he'd just seen. An honest to goodness Quincy appeared before him, saying that there were more like him. There was a king, a king who wanted to speak to Ishida. It was a lot to take in. The possibility that he was being trapped once again sprang into his mind. Quilge was powerful. his arrows alone possessed a noticeably greater power than Ishida's. Would he be able to resist if he found himself in the midst of enemies on that level? That concern weighed on his mind, but it was quickly smothered by the weight of his curiosity. If there were more Quincy of that level, then there was more to learn. Surely there would be those that could teach him what his grandfather could not.

By the time Quilge crested the rooftops up above the alley, Ishida's mind was made up. He put away his bow and leaped into the air. He had new questions that he never would have thought to ask before, and he wasn't about to pass up a chance to have them answered.

\+ Break +

The sky above Soul Society was almost entirely clear with only small, wispy clouds lazily drifting by to break up the blue. It was peaceful; far more so than any day in recent memory. On days like these, conflicts like those surrounding the traitor, Aizen Sōsuke, seemed so much further in the past. Yamamoto Genryūsai, Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, relished these days.

An aid excused himself quietly after delivering a brief report from each of the 13 divisions. That there was little to be said from any of them was almost as refreshing as the air blowing in from the balcony. Yamamoto chuckled to himself. It was so soft as to be imperceptible by the most diligent observer-he couldn't have his stoic image tarnished by a good mood-and so short that anyone who did somehow manage to hear would mistake it for a cough.

He _was_ getting old. It had been, what, a millennia since he formed the Gotei? And even then he was no spring chicken. For a thousand years he'd been Captain of the 1st Division. He'd led the Shinigami through countless battles and struggles. He took great personal pride in the fact that the system had managed to hold together for so long. This continued solidarity and the growing number of exceptional people in their ranks was reassuring as well.

Though, it seemed as if greater threats were rising to meet those exceptional youngsters. Even in this, balance permeated everything. It was important to remember that the cause the Shinigami continue to fight for did not benefit them exclusively, and remain diligent.

"Captain-Commander!" A messenger rushed into the room, breathing heavily. He knelt, waiting for Yamamoto's permission to continue. With the Captain-Commander's nod, he continued, "I have an urgent report from Lieutenant Sasakibe! There's been an attack by an unknown force! Five individuals, attacking indiscriminately and causing considerable destruction in the Rukongai!"

"And? Yamamoto maintained an air of composure and authority, but something wasn't right. It would be one thing for a group of hoodlums to be causing trouble in the Rukongai; a man of Chōjirō's caliber could dispense with that sort of rabble effortlessly. But for his Lieutenant to send an urgent message like this there could be no simple hoodlums. "Well? Out with it!" A sense of unease crept into Yamamoto's mind. Did the air feel thinner?

"Sir! Lieutenant Sasakibe, currently engaging with the attackers, requests immediate assistance!"

Yamamoto's unease grew. An enemy that Chōjirō would struggle with was not one they could afford to overlook. _This beautiful day has given way to something quite harrowing. Balance indeed._ "Send a report to all Divisions! I want at least three Captains on the scene. No exceptions! Now go!"

""Right away, sir!" the messenger bowed his head and sprinted off, leaving Yamamoto alone to ponder about this sudden threat.

The Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 turned away from the mostly clear blue sky; through the haze of unease it seemed all too bleak. On his desk lay reports from several Divisions, each one detailing the goings on around the Seireitei. Looking at them now, Yamamoto noticed small oddities across the board. Spiking Hollow appearances, accounts of low soul density, violent disturbances across the Rukongai that, upon closer inspection, had much in common.

Something was happening. A small leak in a dam could easily be patched. However when one small leak is joined by a thousand others little could be done to stop the water from bursting through. How long had he been overlooking the leaks?

A sudden change in the air, as if the room was less solid, clued Yamamoto in to the presence of the intruders before he heard them approach. By the sounds their boots made on the bizarrely infirm floor there were five of them. He didn't need to turn and see their pristine white uniforms to know who they were.

The sensation of his surroundings being drained and the unmistakable tugging on his own being painted them as Quincies immediately. But how had they gotten so close? "Who are you?" he spat, barely deigning to turn his head and acknowledge them.

The Quincies stood at attention, faces covered by odd masks. There were only four in the line, none of which were anything special it seemed, but there was an odd pressure about them. Oh, their Reishi absorption was clearly evident, but it there was something more to their presence. It was a power that did not come from the surrounding environment. Unease spread throughout the room to fill the Reishi void.

"What the hell's this? A feeble old man in a big empty room? I thought the Captain-Commander was supposed to be some big shot!" one of the Quincies stepped forward. Unlike the others, he wore no mask, and he regarded the room with a crazed look in his eyes that suggested he might lash out at any moment. Yamamoto almost wished that he would. The especially bold Quincy was much larger than his companions, rivaling Sajin in height and broadness. Though he lacked any of the dignity and composure that the Captain of the 7th Division had. "And here I let myself get worked up over His Majesty's stories."

The arrogant Quincy stomped around his masked companions. He was definitely different than they. He had the same odd presence, but his power was real. It was clear that the majority of the Reishi absorption was his doing. "Now, I was expecting some resistance. A retinue of guards willing to die for their precious Captain-Commander, at least. But no, you just let us walk right in. What kind of security is this?"

"I am here. There is no greater security," Yamamoto said, turning. He was growing impatient with the large man's misplaced confidence. "If your intent in coming here was to run your mouth, then you'd best be prepared to die."

"Now there's the Captain-Commander I was expecting," the Quincy laughed, "There's fire buried in those old bones of yours!" Yamamoto drew his sword and the temperature in the room rose dramatically. The other Quincy shifted and wavered as their thick uniforms became significantly more uncomfortable. "Not so fast, old man. We didn't come here to cross blades, unfortunately. We're just messengers this time. See, we brought you a gift." The massive Quincy pulled a large satchel from his back and threw it on the floor. A hand clutching a broken sword stuck out as if it were meant to be seen.

There was no mistaking that sword. Very few Shinigami ended up with Zanpakuto with such a shape. The thin, straight blade, and the hand guard in place of a tsuba. Yamamoto stared at the blade, his anger building. "Sasakibe . . ."

"Consider this a declaration of war, Genryūsai Yamamoto Shigekuni." As if speaking those words was some kind of trigger, the Quincy vanished, leaving a void of Reishi.

Yamamoto sheathed his sword and knelt beside the sack containing his Lieutenant's body. Carefully, he undid the ties holding the parcel together to reveal Sasakibe Chōjirō's body, fortunately all in one piece. He placed a hand on his lieutenant's forehead and mourned quietly. His thoughts drifted to a time centuries before. A time when A young Sasakibe swore to dedicate himself to improving his skills in service of the Gotei 13 and all of Soul Society. Yamamoto prayed. A prayer he held for all souls as they traversed the boundaries between realms. He hoped that however Chōjirō's soul turned out, he would find the same passion he had as a Shinigami.

As guards and messengers carrying urgent notices poured into the Captain-Commander's office, Yamamoto stood ready to lead. And as he gave orders to the gathered Shinigami, he pushed the soul-destroying nature of Quincy power out of his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurosaki Ichigo slung his bag over his shoulder and merged with the mob of students leaving school for the day. Despite the impression his brightly colored hair gave off, he was not, in fact, a delinquent. And yet, the other students gave him a wider birth than usual. The reason for this was clear to anyone who took a peek at his face.

To call his expression anything other than a scowl would be disingenuous. Even as the mob thinned as students went their own ways, cutting down this street or that alley, or stopping at one station or another, the annoyed scowl persisted. The casual observer might find this odd, considering the dwindling number of people around him, and even more so when he turned down a street that was completely barren. No, most people wouldn't even be able to perceive the cause of his irritation.

Sure that he was clear of any onlookers, Ichigo slowed to a stop.

"You aren't going to get any stronger if you don't take the initiative. Isn't that right, Kurosaki?" Madarame Shino jabbed a finger into her partner's chest.

Yuki Ryūnosuke staggered under Shino's scrutiny. He pleaded with Ichigo, "I get that, but you can't reach your full potential unless you get the basics down. Right, Ichigo?"

"You can't even get through basic training without dozing off, you lazy bum!"

"You get just as bored as I do, Shino-san, admit it!"

The rookie Shinigami wrestled each other to the ground. Shino clearly had the advantage in both strength and technique, but Ryūnosuke was putting up more of a fight than usual. And Ichigo couldn't care less. He kicked the pair of them like a large, tangled soccer ball.

"What was that for?!" The pair whined together.

"You guys are fricken annoying!" Squabbling stopped, Ichigo started moving again. He paid no mind to the rookie Shinigami sulking behind him.

Ryūnosuke and Shino had been following him around for a few days now. After he offered to show them the ropes in Karakura Town, he'd expected to let them loose after just a few demonstrations. But no, they still clung to him as if he were some kind of teacher. That wasn't his job and it was starting to piss him off.

The first couple of times weren't so bad. They paid attention and applied what he showed them fairly well. With Chad and Orihime lending a hand things went even smoother. But life didn't stop for these kinds of distractions, and he had other obligations. School aside, he'd gotten chewed out at his job for ducking out early a few times already.

He leered over his shoulder as the rookies quietly started to bicker again. He felt like a damn babysitter. The substitute Shinigami gig was supposed to be just that. At this point, he was hardly a substitute at all. If the Soul Society thought they could eat up his time like this, they were dead wrong.

As soon as he got home, he'd kick these two to the curb and get back to his life. He'd given them more than enough to figure things out from now on. His mind made up, Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief. His burden felt a little lighter already. He almost started running to get back as quickly as possible, but Ishida Uryu appeared from around a corner, blocking his way.

Ichigo studied Ishida's face for a moment. The guy was a blank slate most of the time, hardly ever showing what he was feeling on his face, but now he was very clearly troubled about something. "What's up, Ishida? I feel like I haven't seen you for days." They were in the same class, but Ishida had been distant since the rookie Shinigami showed up. Well, more distant than usual.

"Sorry. I've been . . . distracted lately." That was weird. No snarky rebuttal? No condescending comment about having seen each other in class? Yeah, something was definitely up.

Ichigo shifted his bag and started walking. "Is that so . . ." There was no point in prying. If Ishida wanted to say something, he would say it. Ichigo passed Ishida with the Shinigami trailing behind. "It was good seeing you."

"Are we friends, Kurosaki?" Ichigo turned to see that worried look on Ishida's face. He couldn't make a joke in a situation like this.

"What kind of question is that? Of course we are. Unless you've got other ideas."

That was the right answer, apparently, because Ishida visibly relaxed. The worry in his eyes was still there, but it was somehow less. "I see. I'm happy to hear that."

Ichigo shivered. "What's your deal? You're creeping me out here."

"It's nothing," Ishida chuckled, "I'll be going away for a while. I don't know when I'll be back, so I figured I'd give you a heads up."

"What the hell, man, you couldn't have just texted me or something?"

"I thought it would be appropriate considering we haven't spoken face to face in a while. Excuse me for being considerate."

"Don't go getting snippy with me. Just don't go out of your way next time. Better yet . . ." Ichigo glanced at the rookie's hovering nearby. They weren't arguing anymore, but the sight of them still pissed him off. Shino was picking at her fingernails, and Ryūnosuke was fiddling with the Soul Society's equivalent of a cell phone. "Hey, how about you give me a hand with these guys before you go? You're the only one who's been neglecting his responsibilities."

"What, do you expect a Quincy to show Shinigami how to do their job?"

"I expect you to lend us a hand! You helped save them so they're your problem too."

"Hardly! You're just too generous for your own good, Kurosaki."

"There's nothing wrong with-" Ichigo's shoulders jumped at the sound of someone shouting. His head snapped around to find Ryūnosuke, wide-eyed and clutching his phone close to his ear.

"Y-Yes sir. My apologies." He collected himself as well as could be expected and spoke much more softly. "This is certainly terrible news . . . yes. Yes, I will inform Madarame Shino-san as well. Thank you very much, sir. Yes, well then . . ." Ryūnosuke gently pulled the phone away from his face and stared blankly at the receiver for a moment.

Shino was the first to approach, "Hey, Ryūnosuke, what's up? What was that all about?"

"Huh?!" The rookie Shinigami's eyes slid slowly to his companion, "S-Shino-san, I . . . That is . . ."

"Hey! You alright?" The kid was obviously shocked by something, but taking it easy wasn't going to get his brain working again. If whatever he was told was bad, then they needed to get him talking fast. So, Ichigo interjected, "What's going on? We can't do anything if you don't tell us what's happening."

"Ichigo . . . Ah! You're right! Shino-san, we need to return to the Seireitei immediately!" Ryūnosuke's eyes focused and suddenly he was all woken up.

"What? Why? Our assignment's just getting started."

"It's got nothing to do with our assignment!"

Ichigo grabbed him by the shoulders and held him down, which didn't take a whole lot of effort. The little guy had gone from barely awake to taking off like a rocket way too fast. It was a real pain. "Slow down. Tell us what happened, Ryūnosuke."

Ryūnosuke blinked and took a couple of deep breaths. "Right. Sorry, Ichigo, it's just . . . We've been summoned back to attend a funeral." He turned to Shino and finally let it out, "1st Division Lieutenant Sasakibe Chōjirō has died. They're calling everyone back."

Shino wasn't the only one who recoiled at hearing the news. Ichigo hadn't interacted with the man much-his impressions were pretty much limited to the pencil mustache he wore-but it was hard to think of either of the 1st Division leaders being anything but healthy.

"What should we do? We can't just leave Karakura Town to fend for itself, can we?" Shino fingered the flower decoration in her hair and shifted in place. That ever confident, headstrong Shino acting so indecisive was evidence enough that things weren't right.

Something big was happening in the Soul Society.

Ichigo put a hand on Shino's shoulder and gave her as reassuring a smile as he could muster. "If you guys have been called back, then they must need you for something. We'll all head over together and find out what's going on."

"I don't think that would be appropriate, Ichigo." Surprisingly, Ryūnosuke voiced an objection. "It seems weird to me too, but we know why we've been called back. A long standing Lieutenant has passed away, so the Gotei 13 is gathering us all to pay our respects. I think bringing an outsider like you might be seen as disrespectful."

Shino bristled, "Hey Ryūnosuke! You can't say that to the guy that's been helping us out. He's every bit a Shinigami that we are, and you know it."

"I agree with you, Shino-san, truly. But this is just too weird. I'm so at a loss that I don't know what to do other than stick to the strictest interpretation of our orders. Please forgive me, Ichigo." Ryūnosuke lowered his head till his body was parallel with the street. Shino opened her mouth to argue, but didn't. She must have noticed it too.

Ryūnosuke's legs were shaking quite badly. He might belong to a different division, but any Shinigami could probably understand how grave an incident the death of a high ranking Gotei member was. And despite his inexperience, he was still a trained member of that organization. He had professional obligations to consider. That was a part of the world of the Soul Society that Ichigo simply couldn't touch. He couldn't stick his nose in if it didn't have anything to do with him.

Unless he was specifically invited to participate, he could only be a bystander. That was a hard pill to swallow.

"Alright. I get it." Ichigo gave Ryūnosuke his own firm pat on the shoulder, "You guys go do what you have to. I'll make sure things are taken care of here while you're away." The rookie Shinigami raised his head. Despite the weary look in his eyes, he gave Ichigo a grateful nod.

"Thank you, Ichigo. And sorry for always troubling you like this." He lowered his head in a more shallow bow and Shino joined him.

The two guardians of Karakura Town stepped away and had a Senkaimon gate opened. Ryūnosuke stepped through with one last thankful nod. Shino turned to Ichigo and offered yet another formal bow. "We'll be back soon, so please take care of us again when we return," she said, then stepped through the gate.

Ichigo ran his fingers through his hair, "Whatever's going on, it sounds serious. What do you think, Ishida? Ishida!"

"What? Oh, sorry, Kurosaki." Ishida adjusted his glasses, but that did nothing to fix the distracted look on his face. "It certainly is concerning, but they made it perfectly clear that this is an internal problem. It isn't any of our business."

_Concerning my ass!_ He barely looked interested. Where did he get off going on about 'internal problems'? "Yeah, you sound _real_ worried."

Ishida sighed, "Occupy yourself with matters out of your control all you like. I have my own problems to keep me busy. I'll see you later, Kurosaki." He turned and started walking away without so much as an apology. And he never explained why he's been a no-show lately. What a jerk.

"Fine! Be a distant bastard! See if I care!" Still, as cold a guy as Ishida could be, he never let himself get so distracted. He definitely did have his own problems. As much as he wanted to stick his nose into his friend's business, Ichigo held back. No point in hurting the guy's pride. Instead, he called out to him, "Hey, Ishida! We _are _friends. Remember that."

Ishida stopped at that, but Ichigo turned and left his own way before anything more could be said.

\+ Break +

Ishida's eyes were wide as he stepped out of the pillar of light. The suburban scenery of Karakura Town was gone, replaced by the lush green of wilderness. _It's like a Garganta, then? Only more immediate._ Catching the last motes of light fading away, he tried to decipher the technique that had brought him here.

It appeared as freely as a Garganta, not requiring any set up in advance. However, it was less of a passage through a void as it was a direct doorway between two places. That made it fairly similar to the Soul Society's Senkaimon gate. A curious thing indeed.

To think that Quincies were capable of such techniques.

"You seem surprised," Quilge Opie said, leading Ishida down a path dug into the forest floor, "Is it really so strange that we would have our own methods of traversing the barriers between worlds?"

"So this isn't the Living World, then?"

"Hmm, I suppose you could say that. Though, neither is it a realm of the dead. This is a world created by the power of the Quincy; a haven to protect our kinsmen from the injustices of the Shinigami."

Ishida looked at Quilge's back, straight and unwavering. He walked at a brisk pace with a confident, rigid gait. This man was proud. Enough that he did not falter in the slightest when faced with the reality of his situation. Or maybe he simply refused to see the truth. No matter how he looked at it, this place was like a hole in the ground. The Quincy had been chased down, and this is where they had escaped to. Surely this was more a prison than anything else.

"You just thought we were chased here with our tails between our legs, didn't you?" Ishida jumped, but recovered his composure after a moment. It was an obvious enough conclusion to come to. "Well, I cannot blame you. Many of us felt the same at first, but His Majesty put those concerns to rest."

There it was again. His Majesty . . . This _Yhwach_. What kind of man was the so-called Quincy King? Quilge spoke very highly of him, but the opinion of one man was hardly enough to go by. He would need to meet this man before he came to any conclusions, if such a thing was possible. "Tell me, Quilge, how many Quincies reside here? I can't imagine your camp being very large if it has escaped notice for so long."

Quilge's shoulders shook. Was he upset? No, that wasn't it, "I invite you to see for yourself, Ishida Uryu, how large our _camp_ is." They approached the tree line and Ishida shielded his eyes from the light. He saw then the smile on Quilge's face, thin-lipped and unsettling. It gave him a bad feeling.

But when his eyes adjusted that feeling evaporated completely. He had expected a small clearing in the trees with a settlement nestled between the greenery, but that was far from the reality.

There was no clearing, the forest simply ended in a cleanly trimmed line. And what lay beyond that line was no simple camp. It was a city! Paved roads and houses filled his vision, and although the style was a bit old-fashioned, it was certainly thriving as well as any modern town.

"Now, now. Don't look so shocked. You didn't actually think the Quincy would live in squalor, did you?" Quilge laughed and continued his marching step towards the hidden civilization. Ishida followed, but the truth was he really had thought the Quincies' situation would be pitiable.

There weren't supposed to be any Quincies left. That was what the Shinigami and even his own master had led him to believe. He had entertained the idea that some Quincy might still exist somewhere. People like him, remnants of a lost people, but nothing like this ever occurred to him. It was too unreal even for a fantasy.

No matter where he looked there were people. Quincies dressed in white and blue, going about their lives. They were really here. They were really living. Even if Ishida didn't know a single one of their names, he felt that he was surrounded by familiar faces. It was almost enough to bring him to tears.

In truth, he had harbored intense jealousy towards Kurosaki and the others. The Shinigami comprised an entire world all their own. Even in death, Kurosaki would never be alone. And even Inoue and Sado had found others like them. None of them had to concern themselves with the loneliness. They were his friends, but he couldn't help but harbor those bitter feelings.

He wouldn't have to worry about that anymore, though. He wasn't alone, and judging by how large this Quincy society was, he never truly had been. They were always here.

Of course, that raised the question. "Why now? Why wasn't I contacted before now?" It was a question mostly to himself, but Quilge responded promptly.

"It is fairly dangerous for us to venture out of this place. Were this world of ours to be discovered before we were ready, the forces of the Soul Society would surely fall on us like a terrible, raging waterfall, and we would surely be swept away. So you see, it was simply too much of a risk."

"I see . . ."

"Of course, you didn't _have_ to remain ignorant of us. That master of yours could have told you all you wanted to know, I am sure."

"What? Sōken could have? What do you mean?"

Quilge brought a gloved hand to his mouth, but it could not hide his amusement. "Oops. I've said too much. I must apologize, It is not for me to say."

If there had been any doubts in Ishida's head before, they were gone now. This man, Quilge Opie, may be a Quincy, but he was not someone Ishida wanted anything to do with. Looking at that smirking face, he saw far too much of the Captain of the Gotei's 12th Division. His sickening demeanor, if nothing else.

"Oh come now, don't look at me like that. It honestly isn't my place to speak on such matters." Ishida smoothed his features to as neutral an expression as possible. He couldn't afford to get on these people's bad side before he got the answers he wanted. Quilge smiled, "There, that's better. Now, if you would hold your questions, I will take you to someone whom you can ask all you wish."

Adjusting his round glasses, Quilge set off without waiting for Ishida to agree. The man's manner continued to irk him, but this is what he wanted. The sooner he got his answers, the sooner he could return home.

Though, knowing about this place, could he still consider Karakura Town his true home? He was a Quincy, and this is where all the Quincies were. The sights he saw as Quilge led him through the streets were new and distant at first, but as they continued on he began to feel a sense of familiarity in the old-fashioned European architecture. The people, all dressed in white uniforms similar to Quilge's, started to feel less like strangers and more like family that he hadn't seen for a long time. It was strange.

As Ishida followed Quilge, approaching a massive palace nestled in the middle of the city sprawl, he took in as much as could, noting oddities that he would want to ask questions about. And all too quickly they were upon the palace. Massive pillars lined the lengthy staircase leading up to the main gates. Judging by the size of the place, it could probably house a whole other town inside of itself. It was far more extravagant than he would have expected for a Quincy stronghold.

The inside of the building was no less extravagant. Vast halls, swooping staircases, and innumerable works of art lined the walls and even some of the ceilings. Stark white pillars in every single room whether they were bearing a load or not. It was just too odd.

After what felt like a half hour, Quilge finally stopped at an ornately carved wooden door. It's surface was polished to a shine and decorated with simple scenes depicting Ancient Quinces slaying Hollows. It did not stand out from the rest of the decor in itself, however a tremendous spiritual pressure pulsated like a heartbeat from behind it.

Quilge knocked on the door and waited politely for it to open. A woman in a hat and uniform let them in and the spiritual pressure overwhelmed Ishida's senses for a moment. His first step into the room was heavy. He almost collapsed on the spot, but pushed through the thick membrane blocking his way. Once inside, the pressure enveloped him and his body adjusted. Still, he had to catch his breath.

"My Lord Haschwalth," Quilge announced, snapping to attention and delivering a stiff salute, "I bring you Ishida Uryu, as requested." Ishida followed his gaze to the other end of the room. Sitting behind a small desk that was far too simple compared to the rest of the palace, was a man with long blond hair. He looked up at the pair and smiled.

"Thank you, Quilge. You may go prepare for your next mission." The man called Haschwalth said in a voice that barely reached Ishida's ears. Quilge obediently delivered another salute and marched out of the room without another word.

It was nice to be free of the man, but Ishida had no idea what to expect from the man on the other side of the room. He stood waiting to be addressed. Judging by Quilge's formality, there were certain proprieties he'd need to observe.

Haschwalth shuffled a stack of papers on his desk before raising his head again. "Ishida Uryu, son of Ishida Ryūken, son of Ishida Sōken. A respectable lineage, if a little muddled." Ishida bristled, but Haschwalth deigned not to notice. "Please, come closer. I believe we have much to discuss."

Hesitating only a moment, Ishida strode across the room. His footsteps echoed loudly in that empty chamber, making him feel exposed, the center of attention. There were three more doormen than he initially realized, their presence hidden within the encompassing spiritual pressure filling the room. As he approached the desk it became clear that this Lord Haschwalth was the source.

Was this man really a Quincy?

"Now then, Uryu. You must have many questions to ask, yes?"

"I have a few, yes." Ishida fought back a wince. The man in front of him was not Yhwach, that was for certain, but he was still clearly very important. Disrespecting someone of high standing was a quick way to make sure he never got to ask what he wanted.

"Well?" Haschwalth stood and rounded the table. He was tall and his white coat reached to his shins. The saber on his belt only added to his air of authority. "Ask away."

Best to start from the beginning. Quilge had no real reason to lie to him, but it couldn't hurt to compare his answer with Haschwalth's. "What is this place? I can see that it is a home for Quincies, but how has it stayed hidden for so long?"

"You wish to know how all the forces of the Soul Society could miss us, correct? The answer to that question will require a bit of extra explanation. I hope you don't mind." Ishida shook his head. "Good. The reason we have been able to remain hidden is that this world is outside of the basic structure of the universe as the Shinigami know it. Are you aware of the concept of Balance as proposed by the Shinigami, Uryu?"

Balance? It seemed like a fairly simple idea to reason out, but the way he said it made it sound like there was more. Ishida shook his head.

"For the Shinigami, Balance is the state in which everything exists in harmony. In the case of the universe, this achieved through maintaining the three main planes of existence; the world of the living, the Soul Society, and Hueco Mundo. These three worlds are in constant competition with each other, threatening to consume one another. The purpose of the Shinigami is to keep any one from gaining on the others. As such, Balance is maintained. This is how the world was sculpted by the Soul King, and this is how it has always been."

"Our world here, lies outside of the Soul King's Balance. It is a wedge that we expended a great deal of power and life to carve out of the very fabric of the universe. In this place that sits outside of Shinigami understanding, we are practically invisible. We are free to continue living and bolstering our forces. Is that a satisfactory explanation?"

Ishida blinked. There was a lot of information packed in that explanation. Balance, the Soul King, carving out the fabric of the universe . . . it was overwhelming. How little did he actually know about this? About anything? "Yes, I think that is sufficient," he said, despite how little he actually understood.

"Excellent. Your next question, then?" Haschwalth wasn't going to give him any time to digest any of that, it seemed.

"My next question . . ." There was only one question he really wanted to ask now, but considering that last answer, it might be too touchy a subject to rush into. "As I was being led through the city, I noticed that everyone was dressed in the same uniforms. Also, there were no children among the people that I saw. What is the reason for this?"

"Ah, a question with a much simpler answer. Please come with me. A visual aid will help." Haschwalth led Ishida out of what may have been his office or a spacious waiting room and into a long, equally spacious corridor. Quincies criss-crossed their path going about their own duties, but they all found a moment to stop and salute Haschwalth. That gave Ishida pause.

Perhaps he was reading too much into it, but was that not the reaction a leader elicits from his followers? If Quilge hadn't gone on and on about the man called Yhwach, it would have been easy to call the man leading him the true king of the Quincies.

The authority Haschwalth exuded as they passed through the crowded halls of the palace enhanced his kingly image a great deal. He never stopped for anyone, no matter how important they looked. The most he offered anyone was a neutral smile and a very slight gesture with his hand. His back remained straight as a board, and despite his hair falling between his shoulder blades, he walked with such poise that the ends hardly swayed. He was a man extracted directly from a royal portrait. Proud beyond measure.

Haschwalth led Ishida away from the bustling crowds and through a door that was a measure smaller than most of the others he'd seen so far, and up a cramped staircase. There was no door at the top, instead, the cramped stairway opened up on one side, revealing a breathtaking view of the Quincy city.

"What you see here," Haschwalth began, slowing his stride to a shuffle, "is the city we have built over centuries of fearful isolation. How does it look to you?"

Ishida scanned the buildings and streets that lay before him all the way out to the horizon. What he saw was much the same as when he was walking the streets himself. Uniformed Quincies going about their day like any other townsfolk he'd seen. "It looks normal . . . at first, but the uniforms make it seem like a community on edge. The absence of children in the street gives the impression that said streets are unsafe somehow."

"Hmm, well observed. Ours _is_ in fact a community on edge, as you've said. We are at war, after all." Haschwalth stopped and turned his attention to the city stretching out beyond the horizon. His expression remained the same. "We are all soldiers fighting for the same cause. It is appropriate, then, that we follow a sense of decorum, is it not?"

_That does make some sense, I suppose_, Ishida thought, but he didn't want to give this man anything to work with just yet. "And the children? Observing military decorum is well and good, but is there some reason the children should be hidden away?"

"There are none, Ishida Uryu. Children, that is." The smoothness of Haschwalth's voice belied the shocking nature of the words he'd just spoken. Ishida tried to demand an explanation, but fear of some horrific cause held his tongue firm. "Don't look so shocked. There is nothing about this that should upset you. Rest assured. This war of ours is not something as simple as you seem to be imagining." Haschwalth continued, unfazed by Ishida's shock, "You see, our battle was not started recently. No, it is a conflict that has been raging for more than a millennia."

"When we first arrived in this place, we were few. The Shinigami exerted a tremendous amount of effort to exterminate every last drop of Quincy blood, leaving us in a truly desperate situation. We rebuilt, however. With His Majesty's guidance, we rose from the pile of corpses that the so-called _Balancers_ made and flourished. From the very moment we arrived, we have been working towards one goal: Victory. In order to reach that goal, we needed an army, which we now have. Of course, a population that is too large would only hinder our ability to wage war on the level required. So, once our army reached the desired size, we stopped any more children being born."

Ishida recoiled, "You what?!" Haschwalth had assured him that the answer would not be so horrible, but this was still quite bad. This kind of population control was something out of a dystopian novel. How could Quincies carry out such a plan.

"Quite the dramatic young man, aren't you. Rest assured, young Ishida, that everyone here is of the same mind. From the very start of each of their lives the people have known that there was a limit. We have never stopped those that disagree with this law from leaving. Your mother was born to the Katagiri family, correct? Their ancestors chose to leave this place for that very reason."

Was that true? If so, then perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing after all. Though the idea still left a sour taste on Ishida's tongue. "I see. Now that you have explained it to me, that does make a fair bit of sense. Thank you for enlightening me." He offered only a shallow bow to express his gratitude. Haschwalth was clearly very important, but even he mentioned a _Majesty_. That was surely Yhwach.

Haschwalth actually smiled at the show of subservience, though the expression was slight. A fitting response. "It is no trouble, young Ishida. Now, I believe you have one more question."

Ishida's shoulders shook. He had been trying to hide his true goal behind his other questions, but the man standing in front of him already knew what he really wanted to ask. "That is correct. I want to ask you about my master, my grandfather, Ishida Sōken." Ishida took a deep breath. The Quincies were clearly a utilitarian bunch, so there was a good chance that whatever Haschwalth responded with would fill him with dread and rage. He wanted to know where the Quincies had been while his grandfather had been struggling. Why hadn't they helped him in his time of need? He wanted to accuse them of abandoning him. But all that came out was, "Why did Sōken have to die?"

The expression on Haschwalth's face didn't budge at all, but Ishida clearly felt an unseasonal icy breeze on the back of his neck. "You recall I mentioned the Katagiri family, yes? That their ancestors were Echt Quincy who left on principle? Your grandfather was much the same, but he was a traitor."

"What did you-" Ishida clenched his teeth, but Haschwalth raised his hand. A non-threatening gesture that carried a terrifying weight.

"Do not misunderstand me, young Ishida. Ishida Sōken was a respectable man of pure blood. He was not ejected from this place, nor did he have any need to flee. However his goals and philosophy ran counter to ours. He sought a world where the Quincy were like lap dogs of the Shinigami, and that is something that we could not stand."

"Are you saying you had a hand in his death?"

For the first time, Haschwalth's serenity faltered, "Do not make me repeat myself, Ishida Uryu." The sheer force of those words drove Ishida back.

"Then why? If you respected him, and you would not harm him, why did he have to die?!"

"I can give you two reasons. First, Sōken was proud to a fault. This is a trait we encourage in our forces, however in his case it caused him to turn away from the progress we have made in our techniques and powers. In other words, he was too attached to the old ways, and so crippled his own potential for power. Second, because he was unwilling to pay penance for his sins. We can mourn for one who threatens our way of life, but we cannot offer them aid no matter how dire their need. Do you understand, young Ishida? Your grandfather's death was his own doing."

Ishida clenched his fists until his knuckles felt like they would split. He shook, not at the weight of Haschwalth's stare, but from the desire to lash out and deny those slanderous words. He so wanted to shout and protect his master's honor. He closed his eyes, fighting back tears, and realized that he agreed with what the Quincy leader had said.

His grandfather was the greatest man he'd ever known, but the more he thought about it, knowing what he did now, the more he could see the reason in Haschwalth's explanation. Sōken desired peace, but at what cost? He would have the Quincy kneel to men like Kurotsuchi Mayuri in order to survive, but haven't they survived just fine without doing so? He taught Ishida so much, all of the techniques that had carried him through his battles. But better techniques existed. How much pain could Ishida have avoided if his grandfather hadn't been so stubborn?

Why didn't Sōken ever tell him about this place? What possible reason could he have had to keep it a secret? It couldn't have been the population control. That was such a small issue in the grand scheme of things.

A thrumming stinging far in the back of Ishida's mind told him that he was betraying something dear to him, but it was simply impossible not to see the truth.

His grandfather, Ishida Sōken, was a traitor to the Quincies.

"You've calmed down. Good. There is something that I would like to ask you, young Ishida." Haschwalth placed a hand on Ishida's back and he felt air rush into his lungs as if he'd been breathing through a thick sack that was just taken away. "Shinigami will stand by and allow innocent lives to be lost at the hands of Hollows, yet when we try to destroy those monsters, they get in our way. They protect the Hollows in order to maintain their precious 'Balance'. Is it _Balanced_ when the life of a living person, like your grandfather, is lost while the monsters that killed him are guaranteed salvation?" Ishida opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. What could he possibly say?

Haschwalth continued, "I have told you that we are at war, but I have not told you why. There are the obvious reasons, of course. The Soul Society threatens our very existence, so we fight. But there is more to it than that. Our purpose is not simply self-defense. It is not mere vengeance for our fallen comrades. We have a righteous charge that drives us forward!"

Ishida barely caught himself leaning forward. He straightened out and firmly closed his mouth, but his eyes and ears were glued to Haschwalth's speech.

"His Majesty Yhwach's ambition is greater than mere victory. More than a millennia ago, he recognized the unbearably flawed system under which all of existence is governed. The retainers of the Soul King tried to silence him then, but they failed. And now, after so much time, we are poised to realize his grand plan. We will conquer the Soul Society and usurp the Soul King's power, and with it, His Majesty will create a world that is free of the 'Balance' the Shinigami are so fond of! He will create a world where damned are rightfully destroyed so that the innocent may continue to live!"

"I have one more question for you, Ishida Uryu." Ishida blinked and nodded. For some reason, he felt eager to answer any question this man asked. "Will you join our fight? We are aware that you have been involved with Shinigami in recent years, and your knowledge would be invaluable."

The thrumming sting continued to prick the back of his mind, but Ishida ignored it. He wet his lips and swallowed through his dry throat to answer in as clear and dignified a voice as possible. "I would be honored to lend my strength to this cause."

Haschwalth smiled. Not a coy half-smile or a grin, but a full on smile, with all the warmth of the sun. What was it that Ishida had found so intimidating about this man? "It makes me very happy to hear that, young Ishida. I believe you can rebuild the honor that your grandfather demolished by becoming one of us. I will arrange for you to be added to the roster immediately. You will need to be integrated and properly trained before the battle begins." Haschwalth snapped his fingers and a Quincy that Ishida failed to notice before stepped forward. "Please follow Mr. Accutrone here. He will see to it that a space will be arranged for you. Welcome to the Wandenreich, Ishida Uryu."

The sharp looking Quincy saluted and gestured for Ishida to follow. Not wanting to be disrespectful, Ishida mimicked the salute and turned to follow. He was filled with an excitement he hadn't felt in years, since Sōken was first training him. From now on, he was a true Quincy, and he would be working to make the world a better place.

It wasn't exactly as Sōken had envisioned it, but surely if the destination was the same, it would hardly matter how they got there.

\+ Break +

It was difficult not to smile when plans came together, but Jugram Haschwalth tried anyways. It wouldn't do to give his report to His Majesty with a full-fledged smirk, so he trained his expression to one of sophisticated satisfaction.

Marching quickly through the palace he largely ignored the droves of soldiers stopping to show their respects. Oh, he gave them little nods and waves of his hand, but those responses were practically automatic after so long. Not that they would care. Given enough of his power, they could be made to believe being spat on was a great honor.

Slipping past his adoring subordinates, Haschwalth made his way deeper and deeper into the palace and up increasingly more ornately decorated flights of stairs until he reached His Majesty's quarters.

"I like that look on your face, Jugo." His Majesty Yhwach spoke before Haschwalth had taken two steps into the chamber. His black cloak, draped over the low back of his chair, Yhwach studied the sprawling city that spread far into the horizon below. "You've recruited the Ishida boy."

"That is correct, Your Majesty," Haschwalth said, bending his body in a deep bow.

"It took less power than you expected? That is a relief. With all the set-backs we've encountered these past decades, it is nice to hear that something is going better than planned." Yhwach stood and poured himself a drink. Haschwalth hadn't seen any servants on his way, so they must have been sent away well before his arrival. They need not be privy to the details of His Majesty's plan.

Haschwalth's satisfaction dimmed, "It seems that you have no need of a report, Your Majesty."

"Ah, forgive me, Jugo. It is rude of me to watch you like that when you are in such a state. Anticipation got the better of me, I'm afraid." Apology or no, it was impossible to tell if His Majesty was looking into someone's future at any given time, and with so much of his power spread across the whole of the army, Haschwalth was as susceptible to that temporal gaze as any low ranking officer.

It was humiliating. He would not fault His Majesty, though. When one possessed great power, it was only right that they use it as they please.

"Such is your right as my king. There is no need for an apology, Your Majesty."

"I'm glad to hear that." Yhwach gestured for Haschwalth to join him and poured another drink. "Now tell me, will the Ishida boy prove as useful as we had hoped?"

Haschwalth thought quietly for a moment, taking a long sip from his cup, "I have some concerns. I had assumed the boy's connection to the Shinigami would make him resistant to my influence, but I underestimated how deeply linked he was to them. It appears that the teachings of one Ishida Sōken are to blame. His sympathy towards the Soul Society made for a difficult barrier to overcome."

"But you overcame it in the end. How much power did you need to invest?"

"More than most, but less than most of the Sternritter. Young Ishida is not nearly powerful enough to resist the way many of our elites have." Haschwalth allowed himself a grin as he took another sip. The stronger a Quincy was, the harder it was to influence them with his power. He would have to invest more, draining himself in the process, to push their thoughts along the path he wanted.

For many soldiers of the Wandenreich this was no issue at all. They started weak and were sympathetic to His Majesty's ideals, so they took very little to influence. It would have been best if Ishida Uryu had been so easy, but for such a valuable pawn, the amount of power transferred was a small price.

"Hmm," Yhwach stood and approached the open balcony. His pensive gaze took in the whole of the world that had hidden their people for what felt like eons. It was that very same all encompassing vision that originally endeared Haschwalth to HIs Majesty all those years ago. "Speaking of the Sternritter, I believe it may be time to call them together. We have stood by as long as we could, but time is running out."

Haschwalth's breath caught. He stared at His Majesty's back with worried eyes. "It hasn't begun, has it? It is much to early!"

"Calm down, Jugo. It is still dormant. But I can feel it stirring in the depths of my soul. I feel as a chrysalis approaching the end of a metamorphosis." The worry in Haschwalth's eyes grew more intense. It was rare for His Majesty to speak in such a way. "There is still time, Jugo. However, we cannot afford to wait any longer. If I am to usurp the Soul King's power, we will need to act now." Yhwach turned and Haschwalth felt at ease.

Despite his ominous words, His Majesty's eyes shone with the fiery ambition of a conqueror. He would lead the Quincy to victory and remake the twisted world of the Shinigami with his own hands. Haschwalth knelt and placed a hand over his chest in the deepest expression of loyalty he could muster. "I will gather the Sternritter at once, Your Majesty. We will begin preparations for the invasion immediately."

"Very good," was all His Majesty said before Haschwalth marched out of the chamber, invigorated. Yhwach did not share his ability to share his power with others, but even so, he made Haschwalth feel as if he were given the king's own confidence and determination.

The Shinigami would fall to the might of the Wandenreich.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurosaki Ichigo leapt through the air with sword in hand. A shower of needles left hundreds of tiny, cracked holes in the wall next to him as he kicked away. He slipped between a pair of large crab-like claws, and easily slipped through a mass of tentacles reaching for his neck.

The Hollows were out in force today as well.

Part of him had hoped that the number of Hollows would go down when Ryūnosuke and Shino left, but he'd had no such luck. If anything, in the days since Karakura Town's Guardians departed the frequency of Hollow attacks had risen dramatically.

The back-to-back attacks were a real pain. None of the Hollows reached anything close to the strength of an Arrancar, but even easy fights could get exhausting without a break or two. Ichigo dragged Zangetsu through the last of the Hollows. He took a deep breath and stretched his arms, wincing. This was the fourth group numbering more than six today, and the ninth in total. And those were only the ones Ichigo himself took down. Chad and Inoue were off fighting still more Hollows.

It was an epidemic. No doubt about it.

Ichigo sat at the edge of the flattest roof around and stretched his legs. The three of them couldn't handle such a huge influx. Maybe if Ishida was around they'd be able to thin out the herd more efficiently, but at this rate they'd run themselves into the ground. They needed help.

But they couldn't just send a message to the Gotei. The Shinigami weren't exterminators. And besides, who knew how long they'd be in mourning. Ichigo didn't know how the people of the Soul Society dealt with their dead, or how dead people even died . . . were the Shinigami even dead? _No! This isn't the time!_

He was going mad. They needed help and the only option open to them was Urahara Kisuke. Not an ideal option, sure, but desperate times and all that. And knowing him, there was already a solution waiting for Ichigo and friends at Urahara Shop. The only question then would be what they would need to do for him in exchange.

Oh well. No use fretting over the ridiculous chores he'd be burdened with. Ichigo dropped to the ground and made for Urahara Shop. "Chad and Inoue should be just about finished as well. Ah man, I'll probably have to take a few days off work to do whatever jobs Urahara'll have-"

Ichigo stopped, his hair standing on end. He felt Hollows all of a sudden. A lot of them, out of nowhere.

All at once.

This was far beyond anything they'd been dealing with recently. Sure there have been more Hollows than usual, but they were all spread out in small groups. That in itself was worrying, but _this_? There must have been several dozen appearing and gathering in one place.

"What the hell is this?!" Ichigo ran, sparing no effort to reach his new destination as fast as possible. The others would get there eventually, so he needed to at least contain the threat until then. Although it would be better if he could defeat all of the Hollows as quickly as possible.

As quickly as possible?

"But how?" Ichigo pushed himself harder. He felt the enormous mass of spiritual pressure shrink, and it shrank rapidly.

Before he knew it, the pressure from the Hollows was gone entirely. That should have been comforting. However, the presence of something that could eliminate that many Hollows without a trace only made things feel more and more dangerous. His unease grew until he cleared the low buildings surrounding the riverbank.

There was nothing. The air above the water was completely empty, without a hint of Hollow. It was as if there hadn't been any there at all. The whole area was a void as far as spiritual pressure was concerned. And in the center of that void, standing just over the lazy flow of the river, was a man clad in white. He wasn't sure why, but Ichigo couldn't help but associate the emptiness with this man. They just felt . . . similar.

The man in white turned soundlessly in the air and looked up at Ichigo through dark glasses. His thin lips spread in a grin that made Ichigo's blood boil. "My, my, you certainly took your time. I was just about ready to draw another swarm if you hadn't shown up." His voice was as oily as his hair.

"Who the hell are you?" Ichigo approached cautiously. The guy looked human enough, but the absence of spiritual pressure put him on edge. He kept his sword at the ready.

The mysterious stranger shook his head. "How like a Shinigami. So quick to make demands. Did it not occur to you to give your name first, hmm?"

"I'm not in the mood for games. Tell me who you are. What happened to all of the Hollows that were around here?" Ichigo raised his blade. He wouldn't use it on someone he wasn't sure was an enemy, but this guy wasn't making a great first impression.

"My goodness, so impatient. Alright, fine. It isn't like I don't already know who you are anyways." He clicked his heels together and gave a shallow bow, "I am Quilge Opie. Member of the Sternritter, and Loyal servant of His Majesty Yhwach. As for what happened to the Hollow swarm . . ." The man called Quilge raised a hand holding a stack of thick white discs that made Ichigo's breath catch.

"Hey! What are you-"

Quilge threw the discs up with a quick flick. As they reached the apex of their flight, he produced a sword and crushed them all in the blink of an eye, his blade leaving a soft, blue-white trail in the air. The void around the river vanished as what felt like hundreds of Hollows appeared in the shadows.

The pressure bearing down from all sides was intense. However many Hollows there were, they were considerably stronger than the small fry that had been infesting Karakura Town. If they weren't dealt with quickly they'd cause tremendous damage in no time.

Ichigo raised his sword in earnest. "I changed my mind. I don't care who you are. After I finish cleaning this mess up, I'm gonna take you down."

"Oh? You aren't going to let me finish my little demonstration?" Before Ichigo could leap into action, the gathered Hollows struck at the river, bearing down like a great wave. But as they reached the water's edge, they stopped. And recoiled. In the blink of an eye, half of the gathered monsters were vaporized. Another moment later, the other half vanished, their forms broken down and pulled together into a single point. Ichigo followed that trail to the man standing behind him. "Do you understand now, Kurosaki Ichigo? Surely you aren't as dense as that laughable expression makes you seem."

"Yeah I get it. You're a Quincy, like Ishida, except there are a few important lessons I'll need to beat into you."

Quilge's thin lips curved down, "You _get it_, do you? I find that hard to believe if Ishida Uryu is your only point of reference." With a sharp flick, Quilge pointed the tip of his sword at Ichigo, "As a Quincy, it is my job to do what you Shinigami refuse to. Now, allow me to continue my demonstration, Kurosaki Ichigo!"

The Quincy's blade sliced the air where Ichigo's head was just an instant earlier, catching a few rogue strands of orange hair. Stepping forward, already mid-swing, Ichigo pressed into Quilge, slashing at his waste. Quilge leapt back, staying just ahead of the shockwave. If he was anything like Ishida, he wouldn't let his guard down no matter how safely he avoided or deflected an attack, so Ichigo launched another attack before the first one dissipated.

Appearing in the air above Quilge, he shot another slicing shockwave, more quick and powerful than the first. But again, the bespectacled Quincy dodged, seeming to vanish with a quick step to the side. The shockwave slammed into the river, sending a plume of water high into the air. Quilge reappeared in the air above Ichigo, the tip of his saber pointed at him. Bars of blue-white light shot out of either side of the blade's guard and the tip glowed with the same energy. Bolts akin to Ishida's arrows shot out of the saber, raining down on Ichigo who was forced to retreat.

His flight didn't last long, however. The bolts fired by Quilge couldn't measure up to Ishida's in speed, though their strength was apparent. Ichigo pivoted, zigzagging between pillars of water produced by the blue-white bolts and closing the gap once again. Zangetsu slammed into Quilge's saber, throwing intense sparks of spiritual pressure flying. The Quincy managed to stop the attack, but his defense was shaky. Ichigo poured more power into his blade and broke through Quilge's guard, sending him hurtling into the river with another great splash.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Ichigo turned to Inoue's call. She and Chad ran down the riverbank looking more than a little concerned. "What happened, Kurosaki-kun? Are you alright?"

"What happened to all of the Hollows?" Chad asked, scanning the length of the river, "And what's that guy's deal?"

Ichigo turned his attention back to the now soaked Quincy emerging from the water. "He's a Quincy, like Ishida. Don't let your guard down though. He's dangerous." He readied his sword again. He was a little unsure about fighting someone from the same faction as a friend, but Quilge's actions weren't those of an ally. _With the three of us, we should be able to capture this guy and take him to Urahara-san. We can figure out what to do from there._

Quilge rose into the air, smoothing his hair. A small white cap and cape floated away slowly behind him. "I was so hoping to be finished with you before your friends arrived, but I suppose this is my own fault. It was wrong of me to doubt His Majesty's assessment of you. A Special War Potential such as yourself warrants a more severe approach."

"You should give up." Ichigo shifted. With Inoue and Chad around there wasn't any doubt they'd win, but if the Quincy resisted too strongly, he might end up getting more hurt than necessary. "We're pretty familiar with Ishida's moves, so there's nothing you could throw at us that we couldn't handle."

Quilge smiled, but it was the sort of smile that doesn't reach the eyes. A spiteful sort of smirk. "Nothing, you say? I find that hard to believe. The Ishida family split from the Wandenreich some time ago, you know, and our techniques have since evolved. What I am trying to say is, don't be so sure of yourself, you impudent cur!"

The void that surrounded Quilge vanished in a sudden explosion of spiritual energy. For the first time, Ichigo could feel the Quincy's spiritual pressure. It was incredible. Far beyond the impression he was giving off before.

And it was growing.

A bright pillar of energy erupted from the surface of the river and enveloped Quilge. "Behold," the Quincy shouted from within the pillar, "this is the true might of the Wandenreich! Witness the power of the Quincy Vollständig!"

The pillar dissipated, revealing Quilge. Transformed. Bright, blue-white wings grew from his back, and a disc of energy decorated with the Quincies' five-pointed cross hovered just above his head like a halo. His dark glasses fell from his face, revealing eyes striped with black bars. And the most jarring transformation of all, his spiritual pressure, now clearly apparent, was many times greater than before.

"I was given the task of occupying you by Lord Haschwalth himself. It would not do to be underestimated so." The pompous serenity that Quilge had before had returned as well.

Ichigo, Inoue, and Chad put up their guards all at once. "What is this?" Ichigo demanded.

"Please pay attention, Shinigami. This is the glorious form known as Vollständig. You might say it is proof of the Quincies' divine purpose." Quilge unfolded his new Reishi wings and extended his hand, summoning his saber in an almost ceremonious gesture. "The name of my Vollständig is Biskiel. Allow me to demonstrate its power."

Almost as if he'd teleported, Quilge appeared before Inoue and Chad with his sword raised. His arm was a blur as the blade fell towards Inoue, but her barrier rose to stop it. The saber bounced off of the impenetrable barrier, and after a quick command from Inoue, sent Quilge flying back.

"Interesting," the Quincy said, seemingly unperturbed, "I've not encountered an energy like that before. I hope you don't mind if I take a sample." Inoue's eyes widened as her barrier began to disappear, bit by bit. "Hmm, that _is_ interesting. An almost purely human spiritual energy, with just a trace of . . . something else. How revolting." Quilge pointed his sword at her again and launched a barrage of bolts from the tip, decimating the area where she and Chad stood.

Ichigo rushed at Quilge, cutting his barrage short with a powerful swing of his sword. The Quincy retreated, but Ichigo got the impression he wasn't all that bothered by the attack. "Inoue! Chad! You alright?" He called down through the cloud of dust thrown up by the bolts.

The dust dispersed, revealing the destroyed riverbank and Chad shielding Inoue, keeping her mostly unharmed. Chad himself was not so lucky, and his injuries forced him to his knees.

"Inoue! Take care of Chad! I'll hold this guy off." Turning back to the almost monstrous Quincy, Ichigo's spiritual pressure swelled. "Bankai!" With an explosion of energy, Ichigo underwent his own transformation. His normal Shinigami uniform was covered by a long black coat of Reishi, and his sword changed, becoming longer, slimmer, and black as pitch.

"Oh my," Quilge breathed, feeling the pressure from Ichigo's transformation, "I can see why His Majesty counts you among the Soul Society's Special War Potentials. I'm not sure I can handle something like you with my current strength. What a pity." He shook his head in resignation, but then raised his saber anyway. Blue-white energy shot out from either side of his sword's guard and the blade began to glow with greater intensity than it had before.

Ichigo couldn't be sure what the Quincy was planning, but he wasn't about to let the guy power up again or unleash some powerful technique. He raised Tensa Zangetsu over his head, gathering a tremendous amount of energy into the blade. His Zanpakuto burst alight with black flames that swelled well beyond the length of the sword. He was going to finish the fight in one blow. That was the only way to protect his friends and keep collateral damage to a minimum. He growled as the power gathered for his ultimate attack reached its peak, "Getsuga . . ."

Quilge wiped sweat from his forehead with his free hand. He could recognize the sheer power rising against him. Yet, he did not falter. "Don't think I'll allow you to do as you please, Kurosaki Ichigo!" A stark white bolt shot out from the tip of the Quincy's saber. As it closed in on Ichigo's chest, the mass of spiritual energy split, creating a wide bar.

"Tensho!" Ichigo swung his blade down, dragging the immense energy along with it. The black flames congealed into a single shining arc, like a massive blade of spiritual pressure, that barreled towards Quilge's wide bolt. Just before the two attacks collided, however, the Quincy's bolt split again. Segments appeared along the bolt's length that grew into long, curving finger-like structures. The fingers curled in, encompassing Ichigo and his attack. The blade of spiritual pressure collided with the spidery bolt with a calamitous grinding noise, sending out painful shockwaves.

The energy of Ichigo's attack exhausted, it disappeared. But Quilge's attack remained.

"What?!" Ichigo gasped. He was sure he poured every bit of strength he could afford to muster into that attack, but it didn't even leave a scratch on the Quincy's stark white bolt. And while he was recovering, the bolt continued to extend and curl in. Before Ichigo realized it, he was wrapped in a cage of spiritual energy.

"That's it! I've won!" Quilge screeched, throwing his head back and cackling like a mad demon.

Ichigo raised his blade again. He didn't have time to mess around with some weird technique. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm not done yet!" With a sweeping chop, Ichigo dragged Zangetsu's edge around the small cage, filling the space with Reishi sparks. The energy making up the cage couldn't have been very powerful-he could barely feel any sort of pressure from it at all-but its surface was unscathed. "What the hell is this?" Again, Ichigo struck the inside of the tiny prison, and again he didn't leave so much as a scratch. He tried again and again to no avail. "Damn it!"

Quilge's cackling swelled into full on maniacal laughter. "You may be absurdly powerful, Kurosaki Ichigo, but no matter how hard you swing that sword, no matter how much of your power you throw at those bars, nothing you can do will leave a mark!" The Quincy breathed deeply, regaining his composure. He licked his lips and tried to comb his hair back with his fingers, and continued to taunt, "Be they Shinigami, human, or Hollow, no one can escape from my Jail, no matter how powerful, unless they are amongst my allies. In other words, you would need a Quincy to escape now. It's too bad Ishida Uryu isn't around to lend you a hand!" Unable to contain himself after all, Quilge laughed.

"To hell with that!" Ichigo raged. He swung his sword again and again, but no matter how much strength he put into each strike, he wasn't making any progress. _I have to get out of here now! If I don't, Inoue and Chad'll have to fight that Quincy bastard alone! Why won't anything work?!_ Glittering sparks of Reishi pelted his body with each attack. They didn't burn or hurt like actual sparks might, but that only made him feel even more trapped. If he could only feel them maybe he could believe he was chipping away at the cage.

Suddenly, the cage was wrapped in a wave of familiar spiritual energy. Below, on the bank of the river, Chad was back on his feet, rearing back for another attempt at cracking the Jail. "El Directo!" Another burst of energy erupted from Chad's fist, and once again it broke against the impenetrable prison.

"Don't worry, Kurosaki-kun! We'll get you out of there!" Inoue called up, raising herself and Chad into the air with her barrier.

"What are you guys doing?!" Ichigo shouted at the rising pair, "You won't be able to take this guy on by yourselves! Go get Urahara-san. He might have some way out of this!"

"We won't leave you!" Inoue shouted back. "If you can't escape from there by yourself, then we'll find some way to do it together. We can at least hold him off until you're out."

Ichigo faltered under the intensity of her determination. They'd already seen Quilge break down Inoue's Shun Shun Rikka and incapacitate Chad with a single attack, so there was no way they could suddenly hold him off. "Don't be stupid! He's out of your league, but if you bring Urahara-san he'll-"

"Please trust us, Kurosaki-kun!" Inoue pressed herself against the bars of the Jail. There were gaps through which they could see each other, but something about the ability prevented them from reaching through. "We aren't helpless. We've been fighting alongside you long enough for you to know that, right?" She smiled, but her eyes were those of someone driven to succeed.

Between her reassurance and a quick nod from Chad, Ichigo wasn't entirely convinced, but they were right. They'd both done their fair share in battles before, so why shouldn't he place his faith in them now? "Alright. I know I can beat him, so help me out. But work quickly."

Chad leapt off of Inoue's barrier and closed the distance to Quilge. His flurry of punches created powerful waves of pressure that washed over the Jail. In the meantime, Inoue turned her attention to the cage, "I'm going to try and Reject this prison, so hold tight." A second barrier appeared around the Jail. Ichigo could feel Inoue's power seeping into every nook and cranny. The golden barrier glowed brightly for a moment, then shattered. The cage was undamaged. "Alright, I have another idea." Cupping her hands over a smaller section of the Jail, Inoue created another barrier, but this time it was focused on one specific section.

"Whoa, that might work." Ichigo watched in awe as the Inoue's energy seemed to cut through one of the bars. If her power could penetrate the Quincy's ability like that, then maybe she'd really be able to get him out!

The barrier shattered, leaving the cage unscathed yet again. Knitting her eyebrows, Inoue tried again, creating barriers of various sizes in an attempt to whittle away at the structure's integrity. She was so focused on her task that she nearly jumped off of her platform when Chad crashed into the cage. He was bleeding and had trouble finding his footing, but he was able to stand unaided. Still, he was in no condition to continue.

"Inoue! Help Chad out for now. I'll try hacking away at this thing some more while you're gone." Ichigo gave Inoue a reassuring nod of his own. It was a long shot, but worrying about poor odds wasn't going to do them any good.

_After I get out of here and beat that bastard, I'm gonna hunt Ishida down and get an explanation!_

\+ Break +

"I never thought I'd say this, but I really wish I was back in Karakura Town right now." Despite Ryūnosuke's lips clearly forming those words, all Shino heard was, "I'm being a whiny baby. Please hit me."

So she did.

"You have no shame at all, do you?" she said, ignoring his protests. "You're just a lazy bum through and through." Spiteful chiding aside, she could see where he was coming from. Following Lieutenant Sasakibe's funeral service they should have been sent back to Karakura Town to resume their duties as guardians. Instead, they were ordered to gather at the barracks with all of the other members of the 13th Division. From what she'd heard, the same was true for the other Divisions as well.

"Call me lazy all you want, Shino-san, but I doubt there's a single person who could take this without wishing they could be anywhere else." Ryūnosuke continued to complain. He hadn't always been like this, had he? Could someone so averse to hard work really make it into the Gotei 13?

Shino scoffed at the doubts of such a lazy bum, "I bet you my brother could do it. He's diligent and passionate about his work, so I'm sure he's out there right now, ready and willing to do the work he's given."

"Guys from the 11th Division don't count! They're all crazy."

"Want to run that by me again?" Shino loomed over Ryūnosuke, rolling up her sleeve in preparation, but the way he shrank back took him out of the strike zone. "I don't want to hear someone who can't comprehend the value of a hard day's work bad-mouthing my brother." She turned her attention back to the assignment. That is, she stood guard on an empty street with nothing to look at but a plain white wall and a few wispy clouds in an otherwise clear sky.

Karakura Town _was_ sounding a lot like paradise.

"Work aside, Shino-san," Ryūnosuke stepped back into line next to her, rubbing a spot on his head that she hadn't hit yet, "you have to admit this is weird. Even the menial sorts of assignments given to new recruits are more exciting than this. And they've got everyone in the Gotei 13 doing the same thing as us."

"Your point?"

"It's just weird is all. They could have at least given us some idea of what we're looking out for."

That was true. Beyond a declaration that the Gotei would be preparing for a large scale conflict and the promise of an update from 6th seat Kajōmaru, there wasn't a clear reason for anyone to be standing around like this. But that wasn't something two unseated members of the 13th Division should be concerning themselves with.

"Listen, Ryūnosuke," Shino sighed, "I won't lie to you and say that I'm excited to be here right now. But this is our job. If you don't like it, I suppose you could desert and try to sneak back to the world of the living."

After a troublingly long pause, Ryūnosuke said all too seriously, "You think I could?"

"What? No, I-"

"It wouldn't be the first time something like that has happened, right? I'd probably have to change my name. Or do you think that would matter?" Ryūnosuke waved his hands around and babbled on with an energy Shino had never seen him muster for actual work. "I bet Ichigo could put me up while I got my bearings."

Shino rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted to explain-in as calm and reasonable a manner as possible-how Ryūnosuke should reflect on his behavior and make amends to all of the people who have supported him and helped him get where he was, but the words missed her mouth and ended up in her clenched fist instead.

"Ow! If you keep hitting the same spot I'm going to end up with a soft spot in my skull!"

"You're an adult, so deal with it!" Shino squeezed until her knuckles turned white and her arm shook. She couldn't even bear to look at him. There was little else she could do to vent her irritation besides avert her eyes and fume. After all, if she hit him too often he'd be able to file a formal complaint. Ikkaku would give her hell if he found out she had that kind of smudge on her record. She could at least throw water on his fugitive fantasies, though, "I shouldn't need to tell you this, but if you did run away, I'd talk without a second thought. I'd lead them straight to you. You wouldn't be gone a day before being dragged back in chains, got It? Ryūnosuke?"

"Hey, Shino-san," Ryūnosuke said in an oddly distant way, "what do you think that is?" Following his eyes, Shino spotted what appeared to be a massive geyser of blue light. It almost looked like fire the way the edges of the column flickered and wobbled.

"What in the world is that?" Shino squinted at the bright column of light, but no matter how hard she looked it didn't become any clearer what its source was. Pulling her gaze away from the geyser, she was startled to find that more pillars of light had popped up in the distance, and more were appearing. "We should go find 6th seat Kajōmaru. He should know what to do." she said, turning.

Ryūnosuke agreed and followed close behind without any hint of a complaint. So he could feel it too. The sense of unease that accompanied that strange blue light.

Their hands moved to their swords automatically as they ran, a tangible sense of dread spurring them on.


	6. Chapter 6

The fiery blue-white geyser erupted just outside of the 3rd Division's barracks. It wasn't the only one, obviously. Just looking around made that clear. 6th seat Katakura Asuka was willing to bet that the whole of the Seireitei was in motion now. At least, he hoped it was.

The Captains never did give them a clear explanation of what the Gotei 13 was preparing for, but judging by the intense uneasiness and pressure radiating from that big glowing pillar, this was probably it. Katakura stood at the ready with the other 3rd Division officers, but he shot Lieutenant Kira more than a few bitter glances.

That man definitely knew what was going on. All of the Lieutenants probably did, now that he thought about it. As for the seated officers . . . 3rd seat Togakushi would be in the know. He was too calm not to be. 5th seat Gori, though? Not likely. The way he was rolling his shoulders and shifting his weight gave away his nervousness. That hairy monkey didn't have a composed bone in his body.

Katakura himself felt those nerves as well, but at least he could behave like a proper officer. The only reason Gori had that 5th seat was because he had seniority. Honestly, of the four of them, only Togakushi had any right to the position he held. He was loyal and talented, not to mention charismatic. And when Kira's allegiances were in question, Togakushi didn't give him an inch. Shooting another look at Kira as he looked up at that blue pillar with a terribly unreliable expression, Katakura was sure that Togakushi should have been in that position.

"Reishi Investigation Team! What are we looking at?" Kira turned his back on the fiery geyser to consult with members of the 3rd Division. Whatever this threat was, the Reishi Investigation Team would surely reveal its true nature in no time. At least there was some benefit to this thing appearing right outside the barracks.

"We're almost done analyzing, Lieutenant. We _do_ know that it is something we've detected before. All we need now is a match." The investigator buried his face in the device hanging from his shoulders, twisting knobs and dials.

Kira nodded and returned his attention to the problem at hand, "Good. Let us know what we're dealing with as soon as you know. In the meantime, what do you think, Rikū? I doubt these things have anything to do with Arrancar." Kira said, obviously pretending not to know.

"I agree. I can't place it myself, but this is giving me an ominous sense of déjà vu." 3rd seat Togakushi said, positioning himself beside Kira. Katakura breathed a sigh of relief. At least there was one reliable officer standing at the front.

Kira Izuru was certainly strong, however he wasn't strong enough. His loyalty was admirable, but he wasn't particularly talented in combat or leadership, and his charisma was nothing compared to Togakushi's. At this point, the only reason he still held such a high position was because Captain Ōtoribashi took a liking to him for some reason. It was infuriating that someone so gloomy could get by on some odd aesthetic appeal while others were held back by a lack of seniority!

"Everybody stand ready!" Kira shifted his stance, his eyes narrowing on the pillar. What was he on about? They were all already ready. Leave it to _Lieutenant_ _Kira_ to hand out some awfully redundant orders to an . . .

A shadowy figure appeared within the blue-white pillar. In a wave starting with 3rd seat Togakushi the members of Division 3 prepared for a fight.

Katakura gritted his teeth. How could someone like Kira have sensed the presence of an enemy before Togakushi, or himself? No, that wasn't the right way to think about it. Katakura was just distracted by Kira's unworthiness. And thinking on it further, Kira was about a step closer to the pillar to Togakushi, so it was probably a proximity thing. And even if it weren't, Togakushi wasn't the type to supersede the authority of someone higher than him.

The uneasy feeling coming off the of the pillar in waves intensified as the shadow grew, the enemy within approaching. Just then, a shout came from behind, "We've got a match! Lieutenant, it's a Quincy!"

What? A Quincy? That was plain ridiculous. This was nothing like any Quincy technique Katakura had ever heard of. And judging by the surprise on Kira's face, he felt the same. Perhaps he really hadn't known what they were preparing for.

So much for being close to the Captain.

The figure in the pillar approached at an almost casual pace, stepping through the blue-white fire as if he were stepping out of a light drizzle. The members of the 3rd Division held their collective breath, Katakura included. Something was off about this. Without a doubt, that was a Quincy. If the all-white attire didn't give it away, the five-pointed cross certainly did. But this feeling, a powerful spiritual pressure that mirrored a Captain's, just wasn't right. Quincy weren't supposed to give off spiritual pressure like Shinigami did.

The Quincy looked around at the gathered Shinigami, his face obscured by a stark white cowl. His voice boomed, rough and filled to the brim with confidence, "Which one of you is the Captain?"

"He isn't present at the moment, so you'll have to do with us." Kira stepped forward without a moment's hesitation and spoke. Putting on airs like that wasn't going to defeat the obvious enemy in front of them, but Katakura was just a little thankful that he did it. "I am 3rd Division Lieutenant Kira Izuru."

"Aw man, really?" The Quincy's shoulders drooped. Was he really that disappointed? Katakura certainly wouldn't blame him if he was. "No Lieutenant's going to get me any glory. Could you go get the Captain for me then?"

"I'm afraid I must refuse. I couldn't possibly waste the Captain's time for someone like you." Even Katakura felt pride swelling up inside him with those words. Kira could be a real downer, but he was performing well.

The Quincy breathed a sigh and shook his head. "Fine. I guess you guys'll do for a warm-up at least."

"We'll see who's the warm-up soon enough. _Raise Your Head, Wabisuke!_" Lieutenant Kira's Zanpakuto shifted to its Shikai form, with that odd square-ish shape looking far more reliable than it usually did. He raised his blade to the Quincy. "I'll have you on your knees for trespassing on these premises. Be ready to repent, Quincy."

Katakura felt a jolt through his whole body. Perhaps he'd been too hard on Lieutenant Kira. When it came down to it, he really could act like a proper leader. Maybe, just maybe, he could be someone to look to for inspiration. Katakura steadied the grip on his sword, deciding to have a chat with Captain Ōtoribashi about the Lieutenant's appeal.

A wave of motivation swept through the members of the 3rd Division as they all silently rallied behind Lieutenant Kira. Their boosted confidence didn't last long, however, as the Quincy doubled over laughing. "What the heck is that? I thought you Shinigami used swords! You know, sharp, good for cutting? How are you supposed to cut anything like that?" The white-clad bastard had the nerve to slap his knee. Katakura wasn't alone in bristling at that. How dare this man make fun of their Lieutenant? "Tell you what," he continued, composing himself, "if you're going to come at me with a glorified club, I'll take a handicap." The Quincy held up a hand, "One finger. That's all I'll use."

"Fine by me. I have no qualms about killing a fool who refuses to defend himself." Lieutenant Kira shifted his stance. Surely he'd close the distance between them with Shunpo to catch the Quincy off guard. A solid strategy. And if his razor-sharp focus was any indication, it would work out just fine.

"Hold on just a moment there, Mr. Lieutenant. I think you've misunderstood me." The Quincy wagged his finger in an infuriatingly mocking gesture. "I'm not taking a handicap to make things easier on you. I'm saying that that all I'll need is one finger. Got it?"

"Whatever you say. Prepare yourself!" Lieutenant Kira leapt forward faster than Katakura could track! He raised-

"Burner Finger 1." A thick pillar of flame fired out of the Quincy's outstretched finger. It bore right through Lieutenant Kira, taking an arm and most of his torso with it. The Lieutenant's body hit the floor without so much as a gasp.

The first to react was 3rd seat Togakushi. He leapt forward, his sword already in Shikai form. Katakura was right behind him alongside Gori. It must have been a fluke or a trick. No way Lieutenant Kira would go down just like that. Releasing their Zanpakuto, the 5th and 6th seats charged with a vengeful fury.

Katakura's vision was filled with white as the Quincy appeared in front of him and Gori. "Now _that_ was disappointing. I'm not going to get much of a warm-up, am I?" For the first time, Katakura could see the Quincy's face clearly. He looked deadly serious except for his eyes.

The last things 6th seat Katakura Asuka saw before his head was driven into the ground were the Quincy's white gloves and his laughing eyes.

\+ Break +

Wide open, flat, and surrounded on all sides by tall buildings, the courtyard outside the 8th Division's barracks was typically used as a training ground. Painted lines on the ground demarcated areas where rows of dummies stood, where racks for practice weapons were placed, and where spaces were left for drills.

Those spaces had shown their worth in the last few days.

Captain Kyōraku Shunsui scanned the courtyard from beneath his wide-brimmed hat. Just as old man Yama said, an invasion was underway. Now the training grounds were a staging area where scouts would deliver information and orders could be sent out. It just didn't seem right. When was the last time the Soul Society had been a battleground like this?

The closest they'd come in the last millennium would have been when Kurosaki Ichigo and his friends stormed the place a few years back. It was almost funny how frantic things had been then for such a small incident. Granted, that little disturbance revealed a much greater threat, so maybe it was similar after all.

From atop one of the surrounding buildings a scout waved his arms in a specific sequence. That would mean the pillars were gone, then. Another signal from further along the rooftops confirmed. Shunsui sighed. It wasn't exactly useful information at this point. They'd already received reports that powerful Quincies were emerging from those pillars, but that was a small problem in the grand scheme of things.

While Quincies with captain-level power appearing all over the Seireitei was troublesome, it was only a fragment of the enemy's total forces. The real threat came from the enormous fortress that had appeared just before the blue-white pillars. According to reports, an army had streamed out in every direction as soon as the building appeared, and it was a safe bet that most of their casualties would come from that force, rather than the more powerful individuals.

It was a hassle being forced to sit around and chew on all of this information. The 8th Division wasn't cut out for this kind of intel management.

"Captain, we've received new reports on the Quincies that emerged from the pillars." Lieutenant Ise Nanao said from behind Shunsui. Looking back at her serious face as she rifled through stacks of papers, he couldn't help but think that maybe it was just him that wasn't cut out for this kind of work. "The individuals that came from the pillars appear to be targeting Captains while the general enemy soldiers engage our main force."

Shunsui scratched his chin, "I suppose that means we should be expecting company then. Nanao-chan, have everybody clear out of here and head to the 4th Division barracks."

"Don't be ridiculous, Captain." Nanao challenged him. As expected of his adorable Lieutenant; she understood his intentions immediately. "It is our duty as members of the 8th Division to fight alongside you. Besides, the 4th Division isn't in as central a location as our barracks. Our ability to convey information will be hampered by a move like that."

"Right on both counts, Nanao-chan. However, our own reports show the strain the scattered fighting is having on our forces. The spread of information might slow down, but we can more easily get assistance to the injured and struggling if we report directly to the 4th Division. Furthermore, you aren't all that talented at keeping secrets." Nanao's shoulders jumped and she averted her eyes. She was just too cute sometimes. "There's something you left out of that report, isn't there?"

She grimaced, so it must be pretty bad, but she still spoke in a strong, clear voice, "The 3rd Division barracks have been decimated. Captain Ōtoribashi was fortunately elsewhere, but . . ." Nanao hesitated. Never a good sign. "Most every member of the 3rd Division present at the barracks has been killed. Including Lieutenant Kira Izuru and many of the seated officers."

Shunsui closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This war, or whatever it was, just started and already they were losing some important people. "That settles it then. Nanao-chan, I want you and everyone else here to move out immediately."

"Captain, we can't-"

"I'm giving you an order, Lieutenant." Shunsui wasn't very good at sounding all serious, but he managed well enough here, "Our enemy is powerful, and we can't afford to lose a part of our support structure so early in what will be, in all likelihood, a drawn-out conflict." He met Nanao's worried gaze with a relaxed wink.

Despite potentially undercutting the gravity of his orders, Nanao lowered her head. "I understand, Captain. I'll have the scouts move out as soon as possible."

"Excellent. I'm counting on you, Nanao-chan." He smiled at her, but once again she proved how clever she could be.

"Don't you dare think about simply stalling the enemy. These Quincies are strong, and even you won't have room to relax when they attack." The worry hadn't left her eyes, but Nanao managed to recover her usual stoic air, "Don't die, Captain. At least promise you'll fight to win."

"I promise. And I won't die. I'm not a Captain of the Gotei 13 for nothing, you know." For a moment, Nanao just looked back at him, worry forming thin lines around her eyes, so Shunsui kept his back straight. He couldn't be completely honest with her, and she knew it. Better to keep things short and simple for now.

Nanao eventually saluted and left. In no time, the entire courtyard was shifting as members of the 8th Division prepared to move. In mere minutes, Shunsui sat alone in that vast courtyard.

It never felt good to lie to Nanao, but he was pretty much used to it at this point. The trick was never to outright lie, but to instead avoid the truth. In this case, though, he had had no choice but to make a promise he couldn't keep.

All of the reports they'd received and sent out had made it clear enough. This _was_ going to be a long fight. That meant the Gotei couldn't afford to show their hand just yet. When one of those pillar Quincies came for him he wouldn't be able to go all out.

"I guess saying that I wouldn't die so confidently was also a lie." He said aloud.

"Indeed." The voice echoed in that empty courtyard, but Shunsui was not surprised. Just as the reports said, these Quincies from the pillars gave off Reishi signatures the same as Shinigami.

"Hello there." Shunsui stood and approached the Quincy. "I guess I should thank you for waiting until my troops were all moved out to show up."

"That was hardly my intention, I assure you." The Quincy, a neat looking man with a rather impressive mustache, politely said. "I was merely considering my own safety. I am quite confident in my strength, but with so many additional factors even my confidence was shaken. That is all."

"Well then," Shunsui smiled. This man had every reason to be confident. The power he could feel was certainly enough to pose a threat, and he had a feeling this wasn't the Quincy's full power, "I suppose there isn't any reason to delay this fight further. I am Kyōraku Shunsui, Captain of the Gotei 13's 8th Division." Reaching behind his back, Shunsui reveals the already released pair of Katen Kyōkotsu.

"Robert Accutrone. Sternritter of the Wandenreich under His Majesty Yhwach." The Quincy, Accutrone, mimicked Shunsui, reaching behind his back and revealing a stark white handgun exuding a powerful Reishi.

"Not a bow? How modern of you." Shunsui whistled, trying to get a rise out of his opponent.

The stone-faced Quincy didn't react at all to the prodding. "I'll warn you now, Captain, if you face the might of the Wandenreich under the assumption that we are the same as the Quincies of old, you will be thoroughly crushed underfoot."

"Thanks for the warning, old man." With the sound of a gunshot, Shunsui's hat fell to the ground. "I knew I could get under your skin," he said, smiling.

With his gun pointed straight at Shunsui and his stony expression unchanged, Accutrone growled, "I am not old."

"I hope you like games, _old man_."

Simultaneously, the figures of both men vanished as their fight began.

\+ Break +

"Captain! Are you alright?!" Lieutenant Abarai Renji called as he approached. Rukia ran beside him. What did these fools think they were doing?

6th Division Captain Kuchiki Byakuya kept his features smooth despite his growing irritation. This was the last place he wanted to see Rukia or Renji. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, "Renji, you were ordered to command the forces at the 6th Division barracks, were you not? And Rukia . . ." She looked up at him expectantly. At least she could recognize her mistake, "I doubt Captain Ukitake ordered you to come find me. Explain yourselves."

"Nii-sama," Rukia was the first to speak up, "we've received reports that the Captains are being targeted by powerful enemies. I couldn't get a hold of Captain Ukitake, so I came along with Renji until I receive word."

"You do not know the location of your Captain, yet you are here. I expected better from you." Rukia lowered her head, as she should. The Captain of the 13th Division was not a weakling, but for his Lieutenant to be unable to contact him was cause for concern. Byakuya turned his attention to Renji. "And you?"

Renji's back stiffened, "Sir! When I heard the reports, I left the seated officers in charge and came after you to offer support should one of these powerful Quincies approach you!"

Byakuya's blood pressure rose significantly, but he kept his cool. This was no time to go overboard scolding a couple of disobedient children. They were already here, so he may as well put them to work. "I'll be having a long talk with the both of you after all of this is over. Until then, follow me." Without waiting for them to respond, Byakuya set off. Rukia and Renji fell in behind him immediately, ready for whatever orders he might give.

They truly had grown. The day he could no longer scold them like children might come sooner than he expected.

Byakuya squeezed the hilt of his sword. Optimistic fantasies could wait. Right now he had a mission to carry out. The Shinigami forces were being pushed back by the surprisingly large Quincy army, and no doubt news of the devastation at the 3rd Division barracks had reached all of the Captains' ears by now.

If the Captains could rally and eliminate the threat of the Quincies that emerged from the blue-white pillars, then they could turn the battle around.

It was their turn to push.

"Nii-sama! Do you feel that?" Rukia turned towards a source of powerful Reishi, sweat beading on her forehead. Renji stepped up beside her, sword already drawn. He was grinding his teeth quite harshly.

"I do. Prepare yourselves." They had every right to worry. The Reishi that was coming towards them was certainly at the level of a Gotei Captain. The enemy was approaching slowly. Whoever they were, they were in no hurry.

Just then another powerful Reishi appeared and closed in with incredible speed. Byakuya and the others barely had time to brace themselves as the owner of that high-speed power crashed into the ground, enveloping the area in an obscuring cloud of dust.

"_Scatter_." The blade of Byakuya's Zanpakuto dissolved, splitting into a swarm of tiny blades. Using this blade swarm he blew away the dust cloud, revealing the owner of the powerful Reishi. It was a Quincy . . . most likely.

"What's this?! I got here first?!" The Quincy, wearing an odd mask that covered his entire head, save for his eyes and jaw, shouted as he scanned the area with exaggerated gestures. "That makes me the winner!" His laughter was somehow louder than his obnoxious shouting.

Having no patience for whatever buffoonery the man could bring, Byakuya struck at the Quincy, sending his blades in a tight stream towards the masked man like a razor sharp gust of wind. As expected, he dodged the attack with ease. Despite the man's impressive, heavy-seeming physique, he could really move. Hirenkyaku, no doubt. Now to test his durability.

"_Roar! Zabimaru!_" Renji leapt over Byakuya's head, his released blade already extending to strike at the Quincy. The spiked end of Zabimaru shot at the masked man and found its target with the boom of sliced air. And again, as expected, the Quincy was unfazed. The attack bounced off his body without so much as a scratch.

Byakuya moved his arm to block Rukia from stepping forward. Having her test the Quincy's capabilities further by attempting to freeze him would be enlightening, but they'd taken too much time already.

The other one was coming.

"Step back, you two. There's no more time to test the waters." Rukia and Renji did as they were told while Byakuya stepped forward. From here on, they would be on support duty.

A Quincy in a long trench coat stepped casually around the corner at the end of the street. His long, jet black hair and face mask covered in spikes gave off the impression of someone trying too hard to look intimidating. But his eyes; large dark pools that sent a shiver down Byakuya's spine. What was that?

"You're late, Äs! You really need to be more enthusiastic! His Majesty gave us this duty himself didn't he?" The larger Quincy spoke as if he hadn't just been attacked. That was frustrating. Even more frustrating, the new arrival barely took note of Byakuya and the others.

"I was just around the corner, Mask. I think you need to tone your enthusiasm down. If you keep rushing ahead, you're going to cause trouble for the rest of us." Much like his eyes, the trench coat Quincy's voice seeped into Byakuya's nerves. It took a conscious effort not to start shaking. Something was strange about this man's presence.

Whatever it was he was doing, the others weren't resisting it nearly as well. Byakuya could hear them shifting and sliding further away as if to retreat. With two Captain-class enemies right in front of them, retreat might be an appropriate strategy. He couldn't have Rukia and Renji exposed to that kind of danger.

Wait.

What was he thinking? Running away wasn't an option! The Quincies were a threat that needed to be dealt with immediately. And Rukia and Renji were Lieutenants of the Gotei 13. They could hold their own if they weren't already adding to Byakuya's strength.

Byakuya grit his teeth and confirmed his grip on his sword. The tiny blade petals of Senbonzakura's Shikai had already reformed in preparation for the fight to come.

The Quincy in the trench coat was looking at him. Meeting his eyes sent a paralyzing jolt through his arms and legs, but it only lasted a moment. Whatever it was this enemy was doing, he would overcome it. He was a Captain of the Gotei 13. His strength was nothing to scoff at no matter the technique or power he faced.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," the scratchy voice sounded like crunching glass underfoot, "most of the Shinigami I've encountered so far have collapsed, foaming at the mouth at the sight of me, but you are a Captain. And I assume the two behind you are of the Lieutenant class? Yes, yes, of course the passive effect wouldn't be as potent against opponents of such strength of will." The Quincy raised his arms and summoned what looked like a group of spikes in the air around him. It seemed as if his attack was about to come when the larger Quincy put himself in the way.

"Äs Nödt! Don't tell me you were thinking of taking all three of them by yourself. That is tremendously unfair!" The masked man pumped his fists and stomped his feet like a child. "A Captain _and_ two Lieutenants? That's a grand feast to keep to yourself, you fiend!"

The creepy Quincy, Äs Nödt's arms wilted slightly while rolled his eyes. "I was not planning on keeping anything to myself, Mask. You may participate as you wish."

Mask laughed in that same obnoxious way, "Wonderful! I'll do just that! I can't let you have all the fun after all!"

"Enough. Bankai." Byakuya dropped his sword and it passed through the ground as if through water. Large blades rose up all around, trapping everyone present in a hallway of giant swords. Those blades shattered, however, becoming a storm of razor sharp petals that engulfed the Quincies. This was hardly enough to defeat enemies of their level, but it would surely wear them down.

Or so he thought.

Shielding his face with his arms, the Quincy called Mask burst out of the raging torrent of petals. In an instant, he passed Byakuya, laughing all the way, "I'll let you play with the Captain for a while, Äs Nödt!" He extended his arms and barreled into Rukia and Renji at full speed. Dragging them along under his arms, Mask crashed through a wall, then another and another until he hit a building, causing it to collapse.

Byakuya almost turned to pursue and rescue the others, but he stopped himself. It took a great effort. Senbonzakura's petals still churned, ripping and tearing the remaining Quincy. But something wasn't right. The sheer number of petals blocked Byakuya's view, but he could tell they weren't having the effect he wanted. Focusing, he increased their speed and brought them closer together. Whatever defensive abilities the Quincy was using, he'd break through them eventually.

Suddenly, several points of light passed through the storm of tiny blades. They shot at Byakuya from all directions, their sharp points aiming to pierce his body. He was being underestimated. Utilizing Shunpo, he easily avoided the glowing spikes and repositioned-

A spike appeared as if from nowhere at his flank and mercilessly stabbed into his side. Byakuya clutched at the wound and found that he felt no pain. Moving his hand, he discovered that there was no wound. Aside from the sensation of the spike piercing him, it was as if he hadn't been struck at all.

"Now then, let's see if you can resist after taking a direct attack." Äs Nödt casually stepped out of the storm of blades, his terrifyingly deep eyes fixed on Byakuya. "Already I am impressed. Most of my opponents would have keeled over already. But not you."

Byakuya willed his petals to disperse and come down on the Quincy again while he repositioned again. But his legs wouldn't move. His arms were stiff as well. Was he being paralyzed somehow? A clammy, cold sweat coated his neck and back. Was it poison then?

"Have you worked it out yet? I'll give you a hint: It isn't poison." Äs Nödt's scratchy voice made the hair on Byakuya's arms stand on end.

He needed to figure out the technique Äs Nödt was using or else defeat him quickly. To that end, he pulled a small cluster of blades towards himself, creating small bleeding cuts on his cheeks and shoulders. "Senkei."

With a roar like blistering winds the innumerable blades of Senbonzakura Kageyoshi congealed into long rows of glowing swords. The rows stacked together and curled in on themselves surrounding Äs Nödt and Byakuya both.

"You said it isn't poison," Byakuya said, forcing his trembling shoulders still, "then it must be some kind of illusion."

Äs Nödt laughed. It was a grating noise. "I suppose calling it an illusion wouldn't be too far off the mark. Our conscious minds do tend to seek out convenient explanations when we don't want to face the truth. And all the while, our subconscious shrieks."

"Illusion or not, it makes no difference! I will defeat you soon enough, then go save Renji and Rukia!" Byakuya called one of the glowing swords to his hands. Just wrapping his fingers around the hilt was difficult. He could barely maintain a tight grip.

"Renji and Rukia, hmm? Are you really sure you can afford to worry about others right now?"

Byakuya's breath caught. For some reason, he couldn't stop his shoulders from shaking anymore, and his feet were rooted where he stood. Where had all of that urgency gone? He _needed_ to go rescue the others, but he couldn't get Äs Nödt's words out of his head. They echoed in his ears, just on the edge of notice.

Could he afford to worry about them?

"Should I give you the answer? If you haven't realized it yet, then I may as well." The Quincy stepped closer, forcing Byakuya to shift back. "I don't blame you for not figuring it out. Something like a Captain of the Gotei 13 would have buried it beneath their confidence in their own strength." Äs Nödt squinted his eyes in an approximation of a smile. "It's Fear, dear Captain."

Narrowing his eyes, Byakuya considered what the Quincy said. _Fear? _That was ridiculous. Fear was ever present in battle, and in every battle he faced it head on. To conquer fear was necessary for every Shinigami. Byakuya squeezed the hilt of his sword as hard as he could and forced himself to move. He stepped forward and swung at Äs Nödt with all his strength.

But the Quincy stepped back out of his range. "The strength of your will is truly impressive, but in the end, fear conquers all. And my _Fear_ is especially potent." A single spike appeared between them and shot towards Byakuya. It struck him square in the chest, and this time, it left a mark.

Byakuya's body was flung back. He righted himself in the air and managed to land on his feet, but his knees buckled. Feeling at his chest, his fingers touched a shallow, bloody wound.

"My thorns impart a _Fear_ that far exceeds what one might experience naturally. They pierce through the barriers our hearts erect to shield us from our most primal fears, bringing them up to the surface of our minds." The Quincy's unblinking stare bore into Byakuya, "And their effect is magnified with every strike."

Äs Nödt's words rang true. A feeling of nausea weakened Byakuya's legs further, exacerbating the shakiness. His mind was in disarray. He wanted to scream. But why? There was no reason to be afraid. And yet . . .

Byakuya shut his eyes; squeezed them shut so tight he feared his eyelids might tear. He had to calm down. His heartbeat, faster than it would be after a hard workout, pulsed in his ears. His breathing came irregularly, switching frantically from shallow to deep and back again. He needed to calm down. Calm down. _Calm down!_

He saw Rukia. She looked up to him. Depended on him.

"Do not feel too badly, Captain. It is only natural for fear to bring us to our knees."

He'd treated her so harshly. It wouldn't be strange for her to hate him. Yet she still looked at him with respect and admiration.

"It goes beyond reason. Fear is irrational. It goes beyond experience and self-image. Those are constructs we form to make sense of the world. Fear is beyond sense."

She had grown so much. In many ways, she had outpaced his expectations.

"Fear is instinctual."

He was so proud of the woman she had become.

"True fear cannot be explained away."

He would see her face again, and he would tell her just how proud of her he was. He would.

"It defies explanation. It simply is."

He could see her now. Those eyes looking up to him. That smile lifting him up.

Her face melted away.

Her hair fell out.

Her skull was exposed.

Her skin decayed.

"It cannot be overcome." Äs Nödt spoke directly into Byakuya's ear. He was right next to him. He had to get away!

An intense stabbing pain traveled through Byakuya's shoulder. He screamed and lashed out wildly with the blade still in hand. The edge cut nothing but air. Howling, Byakuya charged. The fear that had rooted him to the spot before now spurred him on. But his movements lacked the form and practiced finesse that they should have had. He was practically stumbling about waving a stick.

"You are just full of surprises, Captain. With so much of my _Fear_ you should be a babbling invalid at this point, yet here you are rushing at me like an animal." Äs Nödt casually avoided Byakuya's wild strikes, taunting him all the while.

Haunted by horrific visions, Byakuya stumbled around the arena demarcated by his glowing swords. It was just as the Quincy said: Fear is instinctual. It was an instinct that moved the body separately from reason. But that didn't mean reason couldn't wrestle control away from instinct.

With one more wild swing, Byakuya pushed the Quincy away and planted his feet. Fear could shake him to the core, but he was a Captain of the Gotei 13. He was the head of one of the Four Great Noble Houses. He would beat back that fear with his pride! "Ikka Senjinka!"

The thousands of glowing swords making up the rings of Senkei began to move. They collapsed into each other, forming into a giant mass of swords, all of which were aimed directly at a shocked Äs Nödt. Breathing and sweating heavily, Byakuya launched his ultimate technique at the Quincy.

The swords fell, shaking the ground and creating a shockwave that shook the foundations of the surrounding buildings. The ground cracked and walls collapsed. The crashing of the mass of swords lasted for several seconds, the rumbling of their collision never ceasing until Byakuya pulled them back.

Retrieving the swarm of blades and pulling them into a tight ring around him, Byakuya waited. He was exhausted already, but he couldn't afford to collapse just yet. His attack had been powerful, but his opponent wasn't weak. Äs Nödt was alive. He couldn't afford to believe otherwise until he saw the man's death for himself.

As Byakuya calmed himself and caught his breath, Äs Nödt pulled himself from the crater created by Senbonzakura's attack. His trench coat was torn and tattered. His hair was jagged in some places and wounds clearly bled all over his body, staining his white clothes with splotches of dark red. His horrifying, unblinking gaze was rumpled, his eyebrows knitted and the skin between them creased with rage.

"There comes a point, Captain," the Quincy growled, "when surprises no longer entertain. I'm quite finished with you. I'll have you die now." Several thorns of light appeared around Äs Nödt, flying towards Byakuya as soon as they appeared. But he knew the danger of those spikes now.

It took some concentration, but Byakuya executed Shunpo techniques that he worked to perfection in his youth, bringing himself to Äs Nödt's back and striking him with his palm with incredible power. As the Quincy flew through the air, he struck at him again with Senbonzakura's countless petals. The thorns dissipated as the storm of tiny blades slammed Äs Nödt into the ground.

The tides were turning in Byakuya's favor, and he wasn't about to let the opportunity slip. He'd end the fight with his next attack no matter what. He raised his hand, calling all of his blades together into his grip. He'd form them all into a single sword; a sword that held the full might of his Zanpakuto. This was the end.

A pair of large boots were planted between Byakuya's shoulder blades in that instant, sending him flying into one of the only walls that still stood.

"What is this, Äs?! I leave you for just a few moments and this is the state you end up in? I'm embarrassed for you!" Mask's laugh was the sound of pure despair.

"You did not have to interfere!" Äs Nödt stood on unstable legs, the number of bleeding wounds having multiplied.

"Say that when you aren't about to keel over, eh! I had to rush over here in such a hurry that I didn't get a chance to finish off those small fry. You owe me for interrupting me _and_ forcing me to rescue you!"

So Rukia and Renji were still alive. Byakuya had to heave a sigh of relief before digging himself out of the rubble. If those two were still alive, then there was still hope. Äs Nödt alone had almost pushed him over the edge, so there was no way he'd be able to take on both Quincies at once.

But so long as he could distract them and ensure the others' survival, he'd consider that a victory.


	7. Chapter 7

The shockwaves produced by the Quincy's voice beat against Hitsugaya Tōshirō's entire body. Taking to the air was barely a reprieve from that oppressive noise, but there was little else he could do to mitigate the damage. The ice covering his arms and legs chipped and fell away in small amounts every time that giant ape opened his mouth, or so it seemed.

Pouring an extra dose of power into his swing, Tōshirō launched a torrent of ice. Diversions like those would only work for so long as the enemy's voice-based power could easily shatter the ice. He was going to need to think of a way around that. Another few attacks would occupy him for a little longer.

"Matsumoto! You still with me?" Tōshirō called, swooping down to where his Lieutenant had taken cover.

"For the time being, yes. I've only got a few bumps and scratches so far." Matsumoto Rangiku's voice was reassuring and confident, but no matter how she tried to sound, her body betrayed the truth. Those_ bumps_ and _scratches_ were leaving streaks of blood on her arms and legs. A thin line of blood ran down the side of her face as well."How about you, Captain? Hyōrinmaru is looking a little worse for wear."

"I'm fine, but this guy is putting on the pressure non-stop. I can barely hear myself think." The sound of the Quincy's roaring, hardly muffled by the half destroyed wall they hid behind punctuated his complaint.

Matsumoto pursed her lips and swung the hilt of her blade in Tōshirō's face."Well hurry up and think of something! I can't do anything because that wailing keeps blowing away my ash!"

"I'm working on it, so be patient. Unless you want to act as my decoy." Tōshirō ignored Matsumoto's protests at the suggestion and turned his attention towards the problem at hand.

The Quincy's power wasn't unbeatable. Far from it, actually. The ape-like transformation he'd undergone at the start of the fight didn't seem to offer any defensive benefits, though his increased size and muscle mass pointed towards greatly increased physical capabilities. Maintaining a safe distance was no problem with Hyōrinmaru's range and mobility, and Matsumoto's Zanpakuto specialized in ranged combat as well.

The problem, then, was that voice of his. Using immense sound, the Quincy could cause destruction in all directions at once. This made it virtually impossible for Matsumoto's Haineko to do anything effective, as it could displace any of the ash she laid down. However, the less focused his attacks were, the weaker their effects. An ear-splitting sound was little more than an annoyance on the battlefield. But when he focused the destructive force of his voice on a single target the power was greatly increased. The trade-off was coverage for power. Perhaps that was the key.

"Matsumoto," Tōshirō's Lieutenant snapped to attention. She could be reliable when it mattered, of course, "I know this is asking a lot, but I'm going to need you to draw his attention."

"Seriously? I thought you were joking before." Even as she whined, Matsumoto crept towards the edge of their cover. For all her griping, she understood that they couldn't afford to be picky with strategy. "Well? Give me the word and I'll do what I can."

Tōshirō nodded. He crept to the other end of the half destroyed wall and began observing the enemy.

Just as before, he was firing off voice attacks indiscriminately. It was as if his goal was to just cause havoc rather than defeating the Captains, as the reports suggested. When the big ape finally paused to stretch his jaw, Tōshirō gave his signal. "Go!"

Matsumoto dashed out from behind the wall and scattered her dust. She already knew it wouldn't do any good, but it didn't hurt to have a backup plan. Immediately thereafter, she began to fire Shakkahō bolts as quickly as she could manage, pelting the Quincy with the same kind of annoying barrage he'd been using to pester them.

_Good! With this he'll either stay on the defensive, or choose to focus an attack on Matsumoto specifically. Either way, he's wide open!_ Tōshirō flew close to the ground, swinging around in a wide arc to get behind the Quincy unnoticed. Firing an attack from a distance might give him a chance to react, so the best course of action was to charge straight in. He'd finish this ape off with a direct strike!

That was the plan, but the Quincy refused to act as Tōshirō expected.

Despite Matsumoto's barrage, the ape lowered his defense and took a deep breath. Thinking quickly, she flicked her wrist, activating the dust she'd scattered before. The ash cloud sprang to life and engulfed the ape's upper body; he was too big to cover completely with the small amount of ash she'd dispersed for the distraction. She'd finally managed to connect with her Zanpakuto, but it couldn't stop the giant Quincy. His roar scattered the ash with ease and targeted her with an intense wave of pressure.

Tōshirō blocked out the sound of her crashing into the rubble of the destroyed surroundings and finished his charge, driving the extended tip of his blade into the Quincy's back. Ice began to spread around the wound immediately. With that one solid hit, they'd won!

That should have been the case.

Moments after the ape's skin started to freeze, Tōshirō realized that his blade hadn't pierced the skin at all. The Quincy turned with a smug smirk and sucked in air for another roar. Desperate to keep that from happening, Tōshirō struck again, slashing at the arms raised to defend. But still his attacks didn't leave any sort of wound. Even his ice couldn't find much purchase on those hairy arms.

All too late, Tōshirō realized his mistake. Light blue lines like swollen veins crept across the ape's arms to meet every one of his swings. The transformation may not have offered any defensive benefits, but he didn't need it to. The Quincies had a defensive technique that could hold against the power of Bankai!

With a shocking speed, the ape-like Quincy grabbed Tōshirō's shoulders and held him in place. Ice threatened to envelope his hands and arms, but those blue lines appeared to shatter the creeping frozen prison. Chest swollen with air, the Quincy roared at the trapped Tōshirō.

The explosive sound only hurt his ears for a moment before his eardrums burst. The force of the shockwaves continued to batter his body, however. The vibrating onslaught forced the air from his lungs, paralyzed his limbs, and rocked his brain, making his vision fuzzy. Hyōrinmaru's wings shattered faster than they could regenerate. After only a few short seconds, Tōshirō was barely conscious with blood dripping from his ears and mouth.

Satisfied, the Quincy tossed him in a long arc into the same pile of rubble he'd blasted Matsumoto into before.

Through his fuzzy vision, Tōshirō could just make out her unconscious body. Her injuries were noticeably worse than before, with blood flowing quite heavily from her scalp. He heard a muffled voice as he desperately tried to reach out to his Lieutenant. What was the voice saying? It was the Quincy, right? Whatever it was, it was less important than getting Matsumoto out of there. They needed to regroup and have their wounds treated.

The muffled sound of a roar reached him before the force of the noise did. He braced his battered body as best he could against the coming attack, but there was only so much he could manage in that state. He had to cover Matsumoto. If only he could move.

Hitsugaya Tōshirō lost consciousness as he and his Lieutenant were blasted into the air by the ape-like Quincy's powerful roar.

\+ Break +

"Keep up, Ōmaeda!"

"Y-yes!"

2nd Division Captain, Soi Fon, and her Lieutenant, Ōmaeda Marechiyo, sped over the rooftops near the 4th Division barracks. The whole of the Seireitei was in disarray, with fights breaking out around every major landmark.

Their own barracks had been no exception, but no blue-white pillars had appeared near there, so the threat was more from the rank and file soldiers swarming out from that huge white fortress. As such, there was no need for a Captain or Lieutenant to stick around.

Soi Fon snarled at the chaotic scene below. "Nothing but small fry here too. We're moving on!" The reports had said powerful Quincies were targeting Captains, but she hadn't run into a single worthwhile opponent.

"Wait, Captain!" Marechiyo dove in front of Soi Fon. His upper lip twitched the way it always did when he tried to weasel his way out of something dangerous. "Maybe we should lend the 4th Division guys a hand. There's a lot of those white-clad bastards down there." He chuckled like a buffoon. It figured that he wouldn't be able to handle the stress of this mess.

"If anything big happens, Unohana or her Lieutenant can handle it. Now get a move on, unless you _want_ me to give you a reason to stay." She didn't even have to crack her knuckles to get him to fall in behind her. They left the 4th Division barracks behind in search of a powerful opponent.

At that moment, the other Captains were engaged in life or death struggles, and the regular Shinigami forces were fighting just as hard. That Soi Fon wasn't in the same position meant that there were powerful enemies running rampant without someone to keep them in check. Only thirteen Shinigami Captains and who knew how many Captain-class Quincies . . . there were bound to be blind spots. That's where the greatest tragedies would occur.

Below, Soi Fon spotted a group of messengers running through the streets. From the 9th, if Lieutenant Ise's presence was any indication. She dropped from the sky, trusting Marechiyo to follow and confronted the other Lieutenant. "Lieutenant Ise, I need an updated report on the battlefield."

The mousy woman jumped when she touched down, but she recovered quickly, rifling through the thicker than normal stack of papers in her arms. Marechiyo could stand to learn from this one. "Here is the latest report we have. I'd stay and brief you, but we have orders to make base at the 4th." With a sharp salute and a concise order over her shoulder, Lieutenant Ise and the rest of her retinue took off again. Soi Fon was half tempted to have Marechiyo apprentice under that woman.

Scanning the paper revealed that many of the Captains were indeed fighting powerful enemies. Kyōraku and Hitsugaya were fighting one each, while Kuchiki and Zaraki were engaged with multiple opponents. Lieutenants Abarai and Kuchiki: Injured. Lieutenant Kira: Dead. Lieutenant Hisagi was currently struggling alone after being separated from his Captain.

A lot of options came out of that report. Zaraki was probably fine, and if Kyōraku was confident enough to send the rest of his Division away, he was probably alright on his own as well. If she was going to help at all, there were only two real choices Soi Fon could make: rush to Captain Kuchiki's aid, or rescue Lieutenant Hisagi.

"Umm, Captain?" Marechiyo tapped her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. There were more important things to worry about than his cowardly blubbering.

Thinking about it economically, it made more sense to help Kuchiki before Hisagi. Getting a Captain out of a bind would increase their available manpower considerably, while a helpless Lieutenant would only serve as a burden weighing them down.

"C-Captain!"

Kuchiki it was, then. Hisagi would be fine if he was able to last this long on his own. A little while longer wouldn't kill him.

"Captain please!" Marechiyo was practically crying. What had him so spooked?

Oh.

A short distance down the street, a lone man in a white coat stood with his hands folded behind him. His narrow eyes were fixed on Soi Fon, though he didn't look eager. He didn't look like he was feeling anything, actually. The man was the very definition of the word stoic.

Looking deeper revealed something else entirely, however. Earlier reports had said that the Quincies who emerged from the blue-white pillars had powerful Reishi signatures that could be sensed the same as a Shinigami's. If that was true, then this man was definitely one of those who came from the pillars. Power burned within him; an inferno ready to explode. Exactly what they'd been looking for.

"It was quite nice of you to wait there so patiently. You're a fool, but a polite one." Soi Fon crumpled the by now outdated report and tossed it aside. "You'll regret bringing those good manners onto a battlefield."

The Quincy shifted gracefully. His arms swung out and rested out in front of his body. His lower body moved all as one piece; his legs spreading and his hips sliding to a position that offered a perfectly centered form. A martial artist. "Manners had nothing to do with it," he said.

Soi Fon drew her short Zanpakuto and stood almost casually. Stances like those had their uses, but depending on the opponent, one could end up revealing their intent by the placement of their hands or how they centered themselves. Formless assassinations were more her style.

In the blink of an eye, she was behind him, blade halfway thrust towards his back. When the tip of her sword was about to connect, though, the Quincy moved. His body seemed to flow, taking him safely out of range of her stab. In the same motion, he turned and planted a foot between her legs. The solid short range punch came nearly as fast as she had moved initially, but Soi Fon was still able to deflect it, if only just.

She broke away, shaking the hand that had met the Quincy's strike. Those reports really were life savers. If she'd underestimated this man, then that strike would have incapacitated her. "Ōmaeda! Keep your distance and let me know if any more of these guys show up!" Marechiyo didn't need to be told twice, he disappeared almost as quickly as Soi Fon herself could. "It would be a shame if our duel were interrupted," she told the man in white.

The stoic man nodded and returned to his stance. Soi Fon was ready to charge in again, but then he spoke. "If this is indeed a duel, then why do you limit yourself so?" His eyes didn't move from hers, but she knew immediately what he meant.

She lifted her sealed blade in a shallow shrug. "You must be pretty sure of yourself if you think that one exchange was enough to make me go all out." This Quincy was quite strong; Soi Fon could tell that much at a glance, but the true depths of his strength remained a mystery. Being overly cautious could be dangerous, but so could rushing to finish a fight with one's full strength. He was hiding an ace up his sleeve, and she needed to make him reveal it before she revealed hers.

"I see. You make a good point." The Quincy straightened his body before slipping into another, more aggressive stance. "I too wish to know if you are worth the effort."

Taking a moment to size up this new stance, Soi Fon was the first to move. She moved around the Quincy more quickly than she had before, but her aim this time was not to stab him in the back. He was too skilled to fall to such a simple attack, so she needed to confuse him a bit. She bounded from one edge of the street to the other, scanning his form for an opening to exploit. He had none that she could tell.

She pushed herself faster, but still she could not find an opening. Not only that, but his eyes followed her easily despite her incredible speed.

That was more than a little annoying.

Well, if the Quincy was going to focus entirely on keeping track of her, then she'd just have to outrun his perception to the point that his head spun!

Soi Fon's feet barely scraped the ground before the next step fell as she moved faster and faster and faster. She could move fast enough to create convincing afterimages, but such simple tricks would be useless against a competent fighter like this martial artist. She had to go beyond leaving shadows.

Faster and faster she moved, zigzagging towards and away her opponent until she could follow his eyes distinctly not following her. Then she struck, appearing right in front of him. Her blade moved like a bolt of lightning, stabbing straight at his heart.

He noticed, but too late to escape unscathed. His body wouldn't be able to move out of the way fast enough, so he sacrificed a hand, allowing the tip of the blade to pierce his palm so that he may hold her thrust from going any further. It only lasted a moment, but seeing those narrow eyes go wide was very satisfying.

Still pushing her blade towards the Quincy's heart, Soi Fon sneered, "I'm impressed that you managed to catch up in the end. You might be worth taking seriously after all."

"I feel the same." The Quincy winced as blood dripped from the wound in his hand. His arm shook with the effort of holding Soi Fon back, but his stoic expression returned quickly. "It seems I have no choice but to show you my true strength." The Quincy's arm stopped shaking and any semblance of pained effort vanished from his face completely. The raging power within him pulsed. Soi Fon leapt away in that same instant.

Starting at his injured hand his skin took on a silvery color and a metallic sheen. Not a particularly threatening transformation, but the change was evident. Whatever impressions of this Quincy Soi Fon had, she would have to forget. At least, that was what she thought.

"Among powerful Quincy there is a technique for amplifying our physical abilities by flooding our blood vessels with Reishi. The name of this technique is Blut." He shifted his stance with a powerful, sweeping motion. "Blut is split into two categories: Blut Arterie and Blut Vene. The former enhances our strength, speed, agility, and every other aspect of our physical performance. The latter greatly increases our defensive capabilities." He droned on, shifting from one form to another.

Was he being serious? Never before had Soi Fon met a martial artist who would flap his gums to such an extent. Was he trying to throw her off her rhythm or insult her?

"This technique, Blut, is powerful. It has its drawbacks, however." He continued, ignoring Soi Fon's growing irritation. "First among them being that the two categories, offensive and defensive, cannot be used simultaneously. As such, even powerful Quincies must choose one or the other, or else suffer fatigue caused by trying to switch between them in quick succession." The Quincy took a powerful step forward, shaking the ground and throwing up an impressive wave of pressure. He pounded his arms and legs with solid metallic fists. "Unlike other Quincy, I possess an ability that not only matches the defensive power of Blut Vene, but greatly exceeds it! My name is Cang Du, one who has overcome Blut's critical flaw with my own power: _The Iron_!"

\+ Shift +

Cang Du's voice echoed off the empty buildings around them. The sounds of battle were distant here. How fortunate that he would be allowed to exercise his strength in such an intimate setting. He moved his arms and legs, slicing through the air with grace earned from centuries of training. This stance in particular invited attack. Despite his usually plain expression he was incredibly excited.

"And?" The Shinigami Captain raised her voice, trying and failing to keep herself from snarling. "If that is all that you have to say, then I will be upset, Quincy. I don't have time to sit here and listen to you stroke your own ego."

Cang Du grinned, "My ego has nothing to do with this. I was merely speaking the truth. I do not like to fight with a handicap, so it is only right that I make sure my opponents know the extent of my power. Now, come. Throw yourself against my impenetrable defense and despair."

With that simple challenge, the Shinigami leapt. She launched herself at Cang Du with blinding speed. If there was anything to admire about her abilities, it was her speed. So far, he'd barely been able to keep track of her movements. Had anyone other than himself confronted this one, they may have found themselves stabbed in the back before having noticed she had moved. This time as well, her presence seemed to fade and disappear. Unfortunately for her, though, Cang Du had trained his senses, pushing them well beyond their limits.

She was aiming for his heart, that much was certain. For all her tricky tactics earlier she had opted for a foolish frontal assault. He was being underestimated it seemed. Pouring Reishi into his bloodstream, Cang Du bolstered his physical abilities. With _The Iron_ he needn't worry about defense, allowing him to focus all of his efforts on parrying and counterattacking. There was no other Quincy more suited to close-ranged combat than him, he was sure.

In an instant, the Shinigami was inside his guard. Compared to that insane burst of speed it felt as if he was pushing his limbs through water. She stabbed at his chest. He couldn't help but grin.

He could feel the very point of her blade tear through his coat and touch his skin, but that was all. Even the power of a Shinigami Captain was insufficient to pierce _The Iron_!

Her eyes widened in a satisfactory manner. Surely she expected to at least leave a mark, but that was simply arrogance on her part. Cang Du pulled his fist back and slammed it into her side, throwing her back the way she'd come, bouncing against the ground. In an impressive show of fortitude, she managed to come to a stop on her feet. The damage was already done, though. That punch broke at least three ribs, maybe more. When she breathed, her whole body shuddered. She nearly fell to her knees. That would teach her to underestimate his power.

"It would seem that you did not listen to my explanation earlier. _The Iron_ is impenetrable." Cang Du tore off his white coat, revealing his chiseled, reflective body. "Had you really been paying attention, you might have also realized that the defensive power of my _Iron_ allows me to forgo Blut Vene entirely, and in doing so, allows me to maintain Blut Arterie indefinitely. I have achieved a perfect, unbreakable balance between offense and defense."

"Are you sure about that?" The Captain coughed a laugh, sneering like a rabid animal.

It took Cang Du a moment to realize why she suddenly looked so smug. When he looked down at his impenetrable body his eyes widened. There was a mark there, on his chest, like a star made of insect wings. He couldn't stop his nostrils from flaring. "What is this? What have you done?"

"You just now noticed?" She straightened, sneering all the way. She seemed to be ignoring the pain quite well. How infuriating. "It seems that the one who was not paying attention was you, Quincy." She raised her arm, and for the first time, Cang Du noticed that her short sword was nowhere in sight. Her arm was wrapped in a black gauntlet that ended in a single gleaming claw extending from one of her fingers. With the addition of a slim golden chain, it almost seemed to glitter as much as his _Iron_ skin. "While you were foolishly explaining your abilities, I was making preparations of my own. Oh, and don't expect me to give you an explanation of _my_ abilities."

Cang Du licked his lips and bit his cheek to keep his features stoic. Somehow, this woman-this dirty _Shinigami_-had marked his _Iron_! Blemished it! He wanted to demand an explanation, but the smug look on her face made it clear he wouldn't get an answer. No . . . he was losing his cool. That wouldn't do. Mistakes were made when emotions ran hot. Falling back on his training, Cang Du settled into another stance, this one more guarded. If she wouldn't tell him what she had done, then he'd just have to wait for an answer to present itself. "There is no need for an explanation," he said in a voice strengthened by his determination, "I will figure you out while you try in vain to break through my defenses!"

As soon as his voice faded into the din of distant battles, the Shinigami closed the distance once again, and once again she came straight at him from the front. If she was any kind of fighter, she would surely expect to receive another counter, which meant she was prepared to take another hit if necessary. As if trailing his thoughts, the Shinigami stabbed at his chest with her gleaming claw. She was expecting him to take the hit and counter, so he jumped back out of her range instead.

With only the barest hesitation, she tried again, pressuring him with that glittering claw. But he kept her from reaching his heart no matter how many attempts she made. It was almost too easy. With the aid of Blut Arterie he could react to her blazing speed even more competently than before. Cang Du needed little thought to protect against the same strike over and over.

Suddenly, the pieces slid into place.

"I think I have you figured out, Shinigami." Cang Du calmly reported, "Whatever your ability is, its activation is dependent on _where_ you strike me. Specifically, you must strike me at least twice in the same place. Is that right? No need to answer. I know it is." It was his turn to be smug. However, knowing the conditions to activate her ability and being immune to it were two different things entirely. No matter how balanced his offensive and defensive power were, if she could strike his chest again, there was no telling what might happen.

The Shinigami Captain vanished. Not even Cang Du's eyes could follow that kind of speed. But he didn't need speed. He knew exactly what her goal was, so he simply needed to predict what she would do to get a clear shot of his chest, or rather, the crest imprinted there. She appeared behind him and he swung around to force her back, but his kick passed through nothing but air.

She was leaving afterimages. It was hard not to marvel at such a feat, but that was something for reminiscing after the battle was won. For now, he spun around at struck at the Shinigami that appeared at his flank, but again he hit nothing. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of her blade and leapt away, but was that a real attack or another clone? Her trickery was relentless. She appeared over his head, hanging there with her claw drawn back, ready to strike. Cang Du almost jumped back, but if the Shinigami's pattern held true, then this too would be an afterimage. It could not hurt him. And just as the image above him started to fade, he noticed the very real attack coming from below.

The golden claw sliced through the space between them, leaving Cang Du no time to escape. His only option was to guard. He hastily raised an arm and caught the tip of her blade with the back of his hand. It wasn't a proper parry, but it would do. His leg sprang up from the side and slammed solidly into her guarding arm. She tried to stab at him once more, but he was prepared this time, and her speed was greatly diminished. Raising his hand again he deflected the blade. His counter missed as she retreated, however.

No matter. The exchange was his. And now she had several broken ribs _and_ a broken arm. This fight was as good as over.

Even as she grimaced at the pain, the Shinigami Captain sneered. It almost looked like a gnarled smile, the way her eyebrows knit together. There was certainly no joy in those eyes that he could see.

Unlike her, Cang Du smiled openly. He was enjoying himself now. At last, he had proven the veracity of his power. He might not qualify for His Majesty's royal guard, but he was strong. As strong as he needed to be. Stronger than the fearsome Shinigami Captains.

Frustratingly, the Shinigami persisted in her misplaced confidence, "You're on borrowed time now, Quincy." She spat the words through grit teeth. The arm hanging limply by her side was doing a wonderful job.

Cang Du allowed himself a modicum of pride and chuckled. "Those are bold words from someone who has thus far failed to activate her ability."

"Bold or not, it is the truth. I suggest you take this time to say your prayers." She vanished again. Predicting another round of trickery, Cang Du turned while dodging to the side. Sure enough, his eyes traced a trail of afterimages making as if to surround him.

These speed clones were persisting far longer than they had before, but that would allow him to predict how the Captain would move. Following each snapshot of her movements, he'd be able to accurately determine where she would eventually try and attack from and how he could best counter.

Just as this thought occurred to him, Cang Du felt a sharp poking on his back. He swung around, burying his heel deep in the ground. Pieces of debris definitely struck the Shinigami's body. Another prick, on his shoulder this time. He threw himself around, swinging his legs around himself several times before landing. He grazed her for sure. He felt a poke on his leg.

What was she doing?! If she intended to activate her ability, she would need to strike the crest on his chest again, he was sure of it. So then why was she so fruitlessly striking him at random like this? A distraction? That must be it. She wanted to make him forget about the mark on his chest by poking at him all over. Either that, or she had lost all hope and was just attacking blindly.

No. This was a Captain of the Shinigami's Gotei 13. Their strength was at least equal to that of the Sternritter. They would not resort to such pathetic flailing.

He would not be fooled. Falling into a defensive stance, Cang Du focused all of his energy and attention on protecting his chest. The pricking continued, nothing more than an annoyance as her attacks could not so much as pierce his _Iron_. He felt her stab at his arms and legs, his back and neck, and even his face in a particularly bold instant. She could pester him all she liked. He would not let his focus falter.

When the Shinigami Captain appeared in front of him, coming to a stop at last, he laughed. "Disappointed, Shinigami? Your attempts to open me up have been for nothing. You depleted your stamina in vain while I persevered."

"Is that how this looks to you?" Her breathing was heavy, whether that was a result of her continuous assault or the fatigue caused by her injuries, Cang Du could not tell. "Tell me, Quincy, what makes you so sure I was trying to open you up?"

Did she think he was a fool? "What else could you have been doing? Your crest is on my chest, but you have been avoiding making an attack there. Instead, you tried to make me react to strikes around my body so that I might forget and allow you to activate your ability. You show your ignorance by underestimating _The Iron_!"

"My crest?" The Shinigami laughed despite her breathlessness. "Who said I was limited to just one?"

The words sounded hollow in Cang Du's ears. Was she bluffing, or could he really have misjudged her ability? He could check if she was lying with a quick glance, but she could use that split second to close the gap and strike his chest.

"You're sweating, Quincy. Are you sure you want to be ignorant of your own failure in your final moments?" She sneered at him. That damn smug sneer! She was mocking him. Making him look the fool! Well, he would show her. He'd look and see that she was lying, and then he'd show her that his martial arts weren't just for defense. He'd go on the attack and make her regret crossing paths with him.

For the briefest of moments he let his eyes slide down to the spots on his arms where he felt her claw before snapping them back up to the Shinigami herself. His heart beat hard and fast, and he couldn't stop himself from trembling. His entire body shook. A tightly clenched jaw was the only thing keeping his teeth from chattering.

Had a mark sprung up at _every_ point of contact? That was insane! She'd poked him all over. His body must have been covered.

The Captain took a step toward him and he took one back reflexively. The satisfaction in her eyes was unbearable. "You seem frightened. That is understandable. Your death is inevitable, though not for the reason you might be thinking."

"What do you mean?" He nearly shouted. She hadn't struck him in the same place twice, he was sure. All of those pricks were in different places. Was she really just messing with him? "You could have activated your ability at any time, so why do this?!"

"Because I'd already activated it. My ability." The frankness of the statement made Cang Du's vision swim. There was no desperation or humor in her voice. She was telling the truth. But how? When?!

As if reading his mind, the Shinigami smugly tapped the back of her hand. He raised his own hand, his eyes falling on the crest there, and a sickly wave of realization washed over him. When she had been aggressively gunning for his chest . . . he'd done it to himself.

Cang Du stomped the ground, slipping into one of the most aggressive stances he knew. "This is a war! I do not think very highly of the Shinigami, but I do not doubt you take this battle as seriously as we do. It is unthinkable that one of the Shinigami's leaders would waste their time playing with an opponent that they could have easily beaten. So then this ability of yours must not be effective after all! There is no other explanation!"

"You do like to run your mouth. Ōmaeda!" The Captain's subordinate appeared in a flash despite his unfit physique and supported her as she wavered. This was the perfect opportunity! She was in no state to continue the fight. Cang Du could charge them both and destroy them right now!

But her words stopped him. "I said I wouldn't give you an explanation, but seeing as how you're already dead, I'll let you know how it happened." She raised her gauntleted hand. Cang Du swallowed hard. "My Zanpakuto's ability is called _Nigeki Kessatsu_. My first strike applies the crests you see all over your body. A second strike to any of those crests seals my opponent's fate. Normally, this ability would activate right away, but it seems that your powerful Reiatsu has delayed the process somewhat. You can take pride in that fact."

Cang Du's eyes had long since frozen on the crest on the back of his hand. _The Iron_ had been useless. Blut Arterie had been useless. Centuries of training had amounted to nothing!

He'd failed.

He wasn't able to make proper use of the power Lord Haschwalth bestowed on him.

He wasn't able to fulfill the purpose His Majesty Yhwach had given him.

He failed.

\+ Shift +

A glow enveloped the Quincy's body as he stared dumbly at the mark on his hand. Had he heard her explanation or not? Not that it mattered now.

"Let's go, Ōmaeda." Soi Fon turned away, leading her Lieutenant despite leaning on him.

"Are you sure we should leave him, Captain? I mean, we haven't confirmed his death yet."

She shot him a piercing look and he shrank back. As spineless as always. "He's already dead. If you are so eager to see a man die, then stay. Just know that I'll send you right after him for refusing to follow my orders."

Ōmaeda squealed and picked up the pace. He was almost pulling Soi Fon along. She wanted to give him a good thumping for ignoring her injuries like that, but she brought it on herself. What else should she expect from a coward?

They were barely still close enough to hear the air shake when the Quincy finally succumbed to Suzumebachi's venom. His immense Reishi vanished along with his body. Or, at least some of it did.

Soi Fon spun, ignoring the pain from her injuries and scanned the now empty street. It hadn't been her imagination, she was sure. Part of that Quincy's power hadn't disappeared. But if that was the case, where had it gone?

\+ Break +

The 7th Division barracks were devastated.

Barely anything of the main structures remained, what was left of the walls now obscuring much of the ground. Amidst the rubble, it was hard to imagine that anything still stood. Nothing but ruined piles as far as the horizon. Even as tall as he was, standing well above most other members of the Gotei 13, Komamura Sajin couldn't fully grasp the scope of the destruction.

He'd been away when the invasion began. Few of the Captains were assigned to work in their own Division's facilities in the days since Lieutenant Sasakibe's funeral. A threat had been made, a challenge issued. They needed to prepare, and this was how the Captain-Commander saw best to go about it. Perhaps if they'd had some warning. If those blue-white geysers had appeared first, then maybe they could have regrouped and responded more efficiently.

Sajin's eyes scanned the horizon, taking in the mess the Quincies had left him until they hit a large building in the distance; far off, yet near-seeming in its immensity. It was the fortress that had materialized first, not the geysers. That was the truth and there was no point wishing it were any other way.

Division 7 was the first to engage the enemy forces as they streamed from that out-of-place stronghold. And they were first to feel their might.

The forces that were stationed here were scattered. Sajin had seen only a few pockets of wounded Shinigami being treated by their equally injured companions. The fighting was still going on; to most ears the air would sound eerily quiet, but the sounds of distant battle reached his ears loud and clear. The shouts of his subordinates, both desperate and triumphant, came from all around. There was another sound, though, loud and continuous, that drew his attention above all others.

Explosions. He drew nearer the source as he made his way to where the barracks once stood. The ominous Reiatsu there made his fur stand on end. The owner was the source of the explosions; the one responsible for demolishing his Division.

Komamura heard the Quincy whistling cheerfully before he could see her, so when the woman in the billowing white cape finally came into view standing before a line of collapsed Shinigami, his rage was at its peak.

"Stand! Soldiers of the 7th Division!" He howled. His voice carried out over the plain of destruction, quieting all other sounds. Even the distant clash of swords halted under his call. "Loyal members of the Gotei 13! On your feet! Support each other if you must! Do not let this whelp trample on your pride!" As if energized by their Captain's roar, the members of the 7th Division scattered about began to stir and rise. Spirited cheers responded to his call.

The 7th would not be beaten easily.

It took no more than a moment to locate his Lieutenant, Iba Tetsuzaemon, in the crowd. "What happened here? And who is this Quincy that thinks she can get away with disgracing us like this?"

"Captain! I'm so happy you're okay!" Tetsuzaemon was fine in spirit, it seemed, but his body was riddled with deep gashes and burns. Most of the other Shinigami had similar injuries, if not worse. "I'm sorry, Captain, the enemy appeared before we could react and started throwing bombs everywhere. We were caught off guard but that is no excuse!"

Bombs, was it? That would explain the scope of the carnage. These Quincy were fearsome indeed. Still, the Captain of Division 7 couldn't stand idly by while his subordinates risked their lives. Komamura left Tetsuzaemon to direct the rallying troops and stalked towards the enemy.

"Hey, hey, what's the deal? You guys were about to kick the bucket just a second ago! What gives?" The Quincy waved her saber at the growing crowd, seemingly unaware of the threat bearing down. But that was unlikely. She was strong; as strong as a Shinigami Captain at least. No doubt she was prepared, so there was no need to feel guilty about attacking her back.

"_Roar! Tenken!_" Komamura raised his sword and Tenken's giant phantom arm appeared at his back. His own blade cut the air as he mercilessly swung it, but Tenken's blade easily reached the Quincy. The ground where she was standing was shattered, but as expected she avoided the strike.

"Ooh, a doggy! How lucky am I to meet such an adorable opponent?" She hopped through the air on small Reishi platforms with a wicked smile on her face. "You know, I had a puppy when I was little . . ." She vanished, reappearing right under Komamura's nose, mid-swing, "I crushed its head under my boot!"

It took a tremendous amount of effort to keep from being blown away by that one swipe of her sword, but Komamura's feet remained planted as he met her blade with his. Their weapons shook under the strain of the deadlock.

Even throwing his weight into the struggle he could barely keep the Quincy back. But it would take more than that to defeat a Captain of the Gotei 13! "Did you think I couldn't use my ability if you got up close?" He raised his foot and stomped down hard enough to crack the ground. A moment later Tenken's phantom leg crashed down, forcing the Quincy to disengage.

"Now! Support the Captain!" Tetsuzaemon's order rose over the sound of cracking earth. The crowd of Shinigami that had encircled them during their brief collision collapsed onto the Quincy.

They did well to overwhelm her in that instant. Though she deftly avoided many attacks, just as many landed solidly. Rather than causing any significant damage, though, each blow just seemed to annoy her more. "I'm trying to fight the doggy. Buzz off!" The attack she launched almost came out too quickly to sense, but in that brief moment, Komamura felt her fire something from the tip of her saber.

Then a line of Shinigami exploded.

The rest of the 7th's soldiers scattered, giving their Captain plenty of room to act. Tenken's blade came crashing down, but the Quincy parried the attack, leaping towards him once again. Komamura swung his free arm, blocking her advance with another of Tenken's phantom limbs. The same trick wouldn't work twice!

The Quincy threw a small ball of Reishi at the arm and a shockingly massive explosion dispelled Tenken's defense altogether. Once again she appeared just in front of Komamura, but he was ready this time.

Just as she was halfway through her attack, he too was mid-swing. He wouldn't be caught with a flimsy guard again. His sword came down with the full force of his strength, forcing the Quincy to her knees. If her bombs could hold off Tenken, then he'd need to overpower her hand-to-hand.

"I took you for an old dog, but you learn pretty quick, don'tcha?" The Quincy's wild smile shifted to a snarl and back again. She clearly wasn't used to being forced down like this. "These days, violent pets like you get put down."

"Is that so? Then I suppose I should put _you_ down, vicious mongrel that you are," Komamura growled, grabbing her neck. With a quick twist he lifted her off the ground, robbing her of any sort of footing. Before she could respond he flipped her over his head and slammed her back down with a thunderous crunch. He felt the blood she coughed up onto his hand before he could see it.

It was a powerful attack, but not enough to kill an enemy of this caliber. He needed to finish her off for sure. Tenken's blade appeared overhead as he raised his own, point down.

A ball of Reishi shot through the dust, but it wasn't fast enough. Komamura shifted his grip on Tenken and swatted at the almost invisible explosive. It disappeared just like that. Those bombs wouldn't be able to touch him if that was the fastest she could launch them. Her chances of success were even lower if that was all it took to destroy them.

When he brought the sword up again, it exploded in his face. Like before, the blast was enormous for how small the actual explosive was. As a surprise attack, it was very effective. Komamura flew across the ruined grounds of the barracks and crashed into a smoldering pile of rubble.

"Captain!" Tetsuzaemon arrived at his side in seconds.

"I am alright, Tetsuzaemon." He stood, effortlessly shrugging off chunks of rubble. Blood stained the side of his face. "It was a mistake to assume I could defeat this foe without giving it everything I have."

"I'll have everyone make room," his Lieutenant said, understanding his intentions.

There was no need to give an order. The Shinigami of the 7th Division were well trained, and they wouldn't fecklessly interfere in their Captain's fight. They knew their place was to support in this situation, so their Captain had to make sure they had someone to support.

"Bankai!" Komamura's body was enveloped in a raging aura of spiritual energy. The ground shook and the collapsed buildings shifted. From the rubble, in much the same way as Komamura himself, Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō emerged with a shower of stone and wood.

Shunpo brought him back to the action with his giant companion mimicking his movements precisely. The Quincy may not have recovered yet, but he would not take pity on her. He swung his sword and Tengen's massive blade crashed into the ground. Without a moment's hesitation Komamura swung again and again, tearing up what was left of the 7th Division's barracks. The mess kicked up by the destruction obscured his vision, but Komamura didn't need to see an enemy like this. He could feel her massive Reiatsu barely avoiding his attacks.

But then she stopped, and suddenly, her Reiatsu spiked. A bright column of light erupted within the haze of demolition, topped by a five-pointed cross. The Quincy's Reiatsu swelled and exploded. As the light faded, what must have been hundreds of motes of concentrated Reishi shot out from its center, each one carrying a massive amount of power.

Komamura drew Tengen back and slashed at the incoming Reishi orbs. The giant blade of his Bankai swept through the orbs, dissipating them easily. After a brief delay, another volley emerged from the still opaque cloud of dust.

And then Tengen's sword exploded.

The shock was indirect, but it still staggered Komamura, the damage travelling through the link with his Bankai throwing him off balance. The second volley of bombs arrived before he could recover, and several orbs struck Tengen's chest. They vanished on impact.

No, that wasn't quite what it was. The Quincy's Reishi was still present, but it was as if it were spreading out _inside_ of Tengen's armor.

The armor on the giant's chest exploded, sending a massive shockwave directly barreling into Komamura's chest. His eyes bulged as the impact spread throughout his body. Blood flooded his throat and he couldn't help but gag. It burned.

Tengen vanished, quickly fading away with smoke billowing from its destroyed chest armor. And Komamura fell. Regret that he could not fight alongside his comrades for the sake of the Seireitei until his last breath dominated his thoughts as consciousness left him.


	8. Chapter 8

Things weren't going so well.

Kyōraku Shunsui rose slowly, arms outstretched and ready for whatever the Quincy would throw at him next. Frankly, it was hard to determine what that would be. The old man was a statue, barely giving away his intentions and hardly emoting after that initial crack. A truly bothersome opponent.

The situation across the Seireitei wasn't much better as far as he could tell. The surging powers of the Quincy and Shinigami forces ebbed and flowed in concert, yet more often than not, the Quincies were coming out on top. But the news wasn't all bad. It was subtle, bizarrely so, but one of the Quincy captains had fallen. That certainly made the losses more bearable.

Another great help, Shunsui thought, was that he'd figured some things out by observing his opponent here. First and foremost, he wasn't fighting just one opponent. There was a power, distinct from the old man's own, that peeked its head out every once in a while. Then there was this "Vollständig" technique the guy was so proud of; the Reishi wings it granted him greatly increased his speed and his power received a hefty boost too, but it made the gap between his own power and the seemingly borrowed power more apparent. Finally, although this Quincy was a stone-faced wall when taunted, his civil demeanor slipped when he thought he was winning.

In summary, Robert Accutrone was a weakling who relied too heavily on borrowed power that he couldn't properly control, yet failed to see as much. This fight was as good as Shunsui's as long as he didn't make any major errors.

Any _more_ major errors, that is.

A throbbing pain radiated out from the right side of his face where a couple of well-placed Reishi bullets took off part of his ear and pulverized his eye. Shots to the head really were the worst.

Accutrone smirked, "I am happy to see you still standing, Captain. I was hesitant to use this technique at first, assuming it might be too powerful, but you've proven a worthy enemy. You have my thanks." He tilted his head back and looked down his nose. The light from his Reishi wings threw shadows over face, the darkness catching in his shallow wrinkles and making him seem quite sinister.

"Don't mention it, old man. I'm grateful to you as well. Playing games like this can't be good for the joints, right?" Poking at his apparent age was the only taunt that got a reaction, but it was losing its effect fast. A shame, really. "I'll need you to put up with this child's whims a little longer, alright?" Shunsui started spinning, sending blades of wind hurtling towards Accutrone.

"Is that the only trick you know, Shinigami?" The Quincy took to the air on wings of light, easily slipping through Shunsui's attack. He dove, the barrel of his gun surely lined up with the Shinigami's remaining eye.

But those same blades of wind doubled back, circling around to intercept. They collided in the air, feeding into each other and growing stronger. Accutrone was enveloped in a cutting whirlwind before he could change course.

"Well would you look at that," Shunsui chuckled, "Looks like I don't need any other tricks." He leapt and slashed the Quincy with a swipe from each of his swords. The hits were solid, but the sensation was that of a shallow graze. He was more hardy than he looked. Even _Bushōgoma_ could do little more than hold him in place. Shunsui raised his guard.

Accutrone crashed through the torrent of air. His pistol flashed. Four shots in quick succession. The bullets nearly struck true, drawing blood from the Shinigami Captain's arms and legs. Another discovery. Despite that weapon's appearance, it didn't need to be reloaded. Not surprising, but important to know.

_No doubt about it, this is his limit_, Shunsui decided. The speed of the Quincy's attacks and that likely borrowed power were the only things going for the guy. He could win without resorting to Bankai. _It'll be a little tight, though. Oh well, as long as my lovely sword cooperates, I should be able to manage_.

"I'll give this to you, old man, you guys really took us by surprise," he called down from above, "Unfortunately, the longer this goes on, the slimmer your chances of grasping victory become."

"That's rich! Quite so!" Accutrone laughed outright, "You must know that your words sound like those of a desperate loser. Is your intention to scare me off before I kill you? Or perhaps you want to try and negotiate. Either way, your attempts to sway me are futile." The emotion drained away from the Quincy's face. The borrowed power within him surged.

"You can probably tell that I'm quite fond of games, but I'm being serious here. Take my words as you will, one thing will not change; you aren't leaving this courtyard." Shunsui shrugged at the Quincy's stony expression, "And you know, if things keep progressing the way they have been, _our_ old man is sure to take the field."

"You mean your Captain-Commander, I presume? Hardly a concern. If he should make an appearance, then His Majesty will rise to meet him. And I regret to inform you that, in such an event, our victory would be assured."

Shunsui shook his head. It really was impossible to deal with guys like this. They had powerful leaders and they acted like that power is their own. Their overconfidence was exhausting.

"Yeah, _Irooni_ should work. I'm thinking we should get this over with though, so let's go with 'White' right off the bat." He dropped in an instant, landing an arm's length away from Accutrone, and swung his sword. The blade passed through the Quincy's arm, a strike that should have severed his hand, yet only left a deep gash. Strange.

"That's impossible!" Accutrone shrieked as he leapt away. "You could barely scratch my Blut Vene before!"

"That's how this game goes. You call out a color you want to attack, and you can only attack that color. Go on, give it a try."

The Quincy merely grunted and fired his pistol. Shunsui stood still and took the shots without fear. Katen Kyōkotsu's power was already in effect. Accutrone shuddered with rage. "What is the meaning of this?" As if consumed by frustration, he raised his gun once more and pulled the trigger again and again. The wrinkles on his face became increasingly more severe with every bullet that dissipated harmlessly.

"What, not even going to try and figure it out? You're no fun." Shunsui stepped forward through the ineffective barrage of Reishi bullets, "This power of mine has a few different variations that force those in its area of effect to follow specific sets of rules. If you refuse to abide, then I guess you'll die."

"Fine," Accutrone growled, "Black!" He fired another barrage of bullets, but once again they evaporated harmlessly. "Why?! I know for a fact that the Shinigami uniform is all black, so why won't my bullets do anything?!"

"Oops, I guess I left out some important details. Sorry about that. The color you call out is the only one you can hit, but the damage you deal is related to how much of that color _you_ have on you. It's a risk versus reward sort of game." It was easy to approach the Quincy in his current state, "White." Another slash opened a new gash in the invader's side. Much closer to the severity than the last one.

"Then I'll call 'White' as well!" The Quincy took aim with a wild look in his eye. Shunsui didn't give him the chance to fire though.

Before Accutrone's finger could squeeze the trigger, Shunsui planted a light kick in his gut. Blood burst from the Quincy's mouth and his eyes bulged. That weak strike sent his white-clad body bouncing violently across the courtyard.

"You are an awful listener, aren't you?" Shunsui called after him. "I told you this was risk versus reward. The more of the called color you are wearing, the more damage you will inflict, but you'll _take_ more damage as well. An old guy like you should have been able to figure out that much."

"Damn you!" Accutrone screamed, propelling himself across the courtyard with enough force to shake the walls.

Shunsui prepared to counterattack with a smirk on his face. It was only a matter of time now.

\+ Break +

"I'm sorry! I just can't do it!" Yuki Ryūnosuke ran as quickly as he could, screaming all the way.

He couldn't stop. If he did, that would be the end. He'd collapse, fear and despair sapping the strength from his legs. Then it would only be a matter of time before he was found and killed by a Quincy, or worse, by Shino-san.

The tears wouldn't stop. He was scared and the pain in his legs was excruciating, but it was the shame that kept his sobs going and his legs moving. Why was he such a coward? The Shinigami of the Gotei 13 were meant to be brave guardians of balance, right? He couldn't even call himself a Shinigami in that case.

It was all a huge mistake. He was never cut out for this work, not like Shino-san and the others. All he ever wanted was to laze about and just exist. Was that so wrong? Was becoming the kind of weakling that couldn't even stand beside his allies as they fought for their lives some kind of punishment?

Ryūnosuke wailed, tripping on chunks of road that had been dug up by a passing battle. His lungs burned worse than they had during his training at the academy. They burned worse than when he was attacked by Hollows. His chest hurt, worse than anything, but he kept going. He'd keep going until exhaustion killed him. That was the least he deserved. He shut his eyes and pushed himself forward, holding as much air in his lungs that they could take.

Then he ran into someone. All of that air escaped at once as he fell to the ground.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the stars, and shrieked. The person standing in front of him was clad in all white. No Shinigami dressed that way. It was a Quincy. He was doomed. He'd abandoned his comrades and now he was going to be cut down, all alone. Who knew how long it would take to find his body. Would there even be a corpse left?

Ryūnosuke opened his mouth, trying desperately to cry out, but the sound wouldn't come out. Mouth agape, he slowly raised his clearing vision. He had to at least see the face of the one that would end his pathetic life. He could at least manage to scrape up that piddling bit of dignity in the end.

He took in the sharp features, the jet black hair, the piercing, icy gaze behind a pair of smart looking glasses . . . and his jaw nearly hit the ground. He recognized that face! He nearly fell on his face scrambling to stand up. Relief made his chest shake and pushed whatever tears he had left out of his eyes.

"Ishida-san! You're Ishida-san, right?" He could barely contain himself. "Are Ichigo and the others here too? Oh man!" Ichigo and his friends were all super strong, or so he'd heard. He hadn't had many opportunities to see Ishida-san fight, but if he was one of Ichigo's companions, then he must be strong too.

This could be it! With reinforcements like this they could turn the tide of battle and push the Quincies back. They could bring the fighting to an end!

"Ah! Ishida-san, since you're here, I need your help, I mean, my comrades need your help! I'll show you the way, so follow me. Hurry!" Ryūnosuke turned and practically skipped a few steps. He stumbled and flashed Ishida-san an embarrassed smile. Relief almost made him forget what was happening all over the Seireitei at that moment. "Ishida-san?"

Ichigo's friend hadn't moved. His expression hadn't even shifted. He could definitely see Ryūnosuke; those piercing eyes were locked on him sure enough, but he made no other motion to acknowledge him.

"Ishida-san? Is something the matter?" He started jogging back towards Ishida-san to check, but a terrible shout rooted him to the ground.

"Ryūnosuke!" He had to force himself, as if against a powerful current, to turn his head and see Shino-san sprinting up to him. There was death in those sharp eyes of hers. Who would have thought that in the midst of a war, he'd be killed by one of his closest allies? The universe had a tragic sense of humor, that was for sure.

Unable to run, Ryūnosuke resigned himself to his fate. Dying by Shino-san's hand wouldn't be so bad. It was much better than being taken out by a random Reishi arrow fired from who knows where. He was ready, and accepted the doom barreling towards him.

He was shocked, then, when she didn't immediately run him through for desertion, and instead ran past him, stepping between him and Ishida-san. "Are you alright, Ryūnosuke? Can you move?"

"H-huh?" Ryūnosuke faltered for a moment. She was _concerned_ about him? He was fine, clearly. She would see that if she just turned around and gave him a look, but she didn't. Her eyes were fixed on Ishida-san. And her sword was raised threateningly. "Whoa, wait, Shino-san! That's Ishida-san, remember? He's one of Ichigo's friends!"

"Do you know where you are right now?" She didn't take her eyes off Ishida-san for a second, but that soft, trembling voice was definitely meant for Ryūnosuke. "This is a battlefield. We're _at war_ with the Quincies, and he's one of them." She was bleeding. There was a thick red streak running down the back of her neck, and there was blood dripping slowly from her sleeve.

"Yeah, but . . ." That was crazy talk. There was no way that could be true, "He's part of Ichigo's group, and they aren't our enemies."

"Do you see Ichigo anywhere around here? Can you feel his spiritual pressure?" It felt like the words were leaving her lips in slow motion. How was he supposed to process this? "Wherever his allegiances laid before, he's here now, and that makes him our enemy."

Ryūnosuke's eyes slid from Shino-san's back. He looked past the glare on Ishida-san's glasses and peered into his eyes.

And he felt cold.

\+ Shift +

Another annoying one showed up.

"Get out of here, Ryūnosuke! I'll hold him off, so go!" She was Ikkaku's sister, wasn't she? Shino . . . that was her name. What a nuisance.

Ishida sighed. He went through all that trouble, sneaking around to avoid running into anyone he knew, and still he runs into these two buffoons. What a horrible joke.

"No! Shino-san, I can't just leave you like this. Not again!" Ryūnosuke kept arguing as if he wouldn't just get in Shino's way. Not that she'd put up much of a fight either. "If we both make a break for it, we might be able to find help!"

"You said it yourself, this guy is one of Ichigo's friends. If both of us go then he'll pick us off one at a time. If I stay, then maybe you can get away!"

They were ignoring him entirely at this point. What kind of imbeciles let fear blind them to the threat in front of them? These two were nothing more than weaklings, so why should he have to waste his time dealing with them? Enough was enough.

Ishida raised the hilt of his seele schneider and poured Reishi into it, igniting the soul-cutting blade. It was an outdated tool, one that would bring him shame in the Wandenreich, but for these two, anything more would be a waste.

"Shino-san!" Ryūnosuke's cry forced Shino's attention back onto Ishida just in time for her to raise her guard, for all the good it did. Her unawakened Zanpakuto folded like paper against his attack, and both of them were sent bouncing down the road.

He could have been on them before they came to a stop, but in all honesty, he couldn't be bothered. Ishida Uryu was a man that had faced a Shinigami Captain and won. He'd fought powerful Arrancar and achieved victory with little effort. He wasn't about to make more of an effort than absolutely necessary to deal with these two.

By the time he was upon them, it was clear that Shino was out of the fight. A large gash crossed her chest, dwarfing the injuries that she had before. She was as good as dead. No need to waste time finishing her off, then. Ryūnosuke though . . .

"S-Stay back!" The young Shinigami had been all but uninjured before, but that one attack left him riddled with cuts and bruises. Blood dampened the side of his face, and he was putting a disproportionate amount of weight on one leg. "I won't let you hurt Shino-san anymore. I won't!" Tears streaking his cheeks, coupled with the violent trembling of his hands-he could barely hold his sword upright-gave Ishida pause.

In this situation, Ryūnosuke was basically sacrificing himself for nothing. Ishida could strike him down with little more than a flick of his wrist, but he couldn't deny how much he admired the boy in that moment.

Ishida's face was stone as he swung his glowing blade. With a light spray of blood, Ryūnosuke's eyes rolled back and he collapsed beside Shino.

He probably should have killed them outright, but doing so would not have gotten him any closer to a position in the Sternritter. If he wanted a place in the upper echelons of the Wandenreich, then he had only one option: Find the Captain of Division 13.

The why of the matter was beyond him. This was the mission that Lord Haschwalth gave to him. This was the will of His Majesty. The reasons mattered not as long as it lead to a Quincy victory. Finding Ukitake Jūshirō was the key to the world's salvation.

Ryūnosuke and Shino were members of the 13th Division, if memory served, so he must be close to the barracks. Part of Ishida wished that he had committed more of the layout of the Soul Society to memory. Another part recoiled at the idea. This place was the home of the dreaded Shinigami. It should be wiped from existence, not memorized.

Powerful waves of Reiatsu washed over him, echoes of distant battles reminding him of the urgency of his task. The Sternritter were strong, as strong as the Captains at least, but if there was one thing he'd learned in his dealings with the Gotei 13, it was that the Shinigami leaders had more than strength going for them. The could be cunning and resourceful. Combined with the advantage of fighting on their home turf, that gave them the most options, which was bad news for the Quincy.

The faster he found Captain Ukitake, the sooner His Majesty could put an end to the fighting. He couldn't explain it, but he knew it to be true.

Peeking around corners and darting from shadow to shadow generated an almost genuine nostalgia. Once, he'd infiltrated this same place to help a friend. He'd run out in the open then. Let the Shinigami see him. The life of his friend, a Shinigami herself, was more important.

That was then. Now, he had a mission that was greater than his personal attachments. He had every reason to skulk around. He couldn't afford any delay. Still, he hoped he would not encounter Rukia here. He didn't want to undo the effort he'd made back then.

Though, if His Majesty succeeded, she and the rest of the Shinigami would disappear anyways. Why did that bother him so much? His Majesty was going to save the world from the false balance of the Shinigami. Sacrifices had to be made. The greater good was what mattered most.

Ishida turned a corner and locked eyes with one of the people he least wanted to see. He was frozen in place. He had to attack! He had to strike and end the fight before it could begin. But his feet were rooted. Kurotsuchi Mayuri's face split in a truly repulsive smile.

"Now this is a surprise," The Captain of the 12th Division's voice was like slime oozing into Ishida's ears. Why was he here? This should have been around the Division 13 barracks! "Based on our previous encounters, I would never have expected to run into _you_ here. Congratulations, you've surprised me."

Ishida held out his hand, materializing his bow and nocking the hilt of his seele schneider in one motion. The soul-cutting sword ignited and he let it fly. He aimed for the Captain's heart, though he wasn't sure if the man actually had one. Unsurprisingly, the sword-arrow came to a sudden stop well before reaching its target.

"My, my. Yet more surprises." Kurotsuchi snatched the glowing sword out of the air and turned it over in his hand. "First, you hesitate to engage. Then, you out yourself as my enemy. This recklessness is rather intriguing. I hope you don't mind if I examine you thoroughly."

Drawing the string of his bow, Ishida charged his Reiatsu to its limit. He could fire thousands of arrows at once, but he doubted they would be effective against this opponent. Still, it couldn't hurt to try. The power being directed to his bow reached its peak. Even if he could not defeat the Captain this way, he could at least do some damage. He loosened his grip on the string and all of the power he had stored vanished.

He didn't have any time to be shocked before his vision blurred and the ground seemed to rush up at him.

"I am honestly bewildered," Kurotsuchi said, walking up casually. He didn't look the least bit concerned about approaching an enemy so openly. "You _are_ the same Quincy that was stuck to Kurosaki Ichigo's side, aren't you? You're so careless I can't be sure. I guess I'll just have to dissect you to find out who you really are."

Ishida tried to move. Anything would have done; his arms, his legs, just a finger. His body wouldn't respond. Slowly, his eyelids slid shut. The last thing he saw as darkness took him was that utterly revolting smile.

\+ Break +

Rose let the report slip from his fingers, allowing a light breeze to take the pages away with the dust. It was hard information to process. Surely the worst since his reinstatement as Captain of the 3rd Division. Losing a subordinate was never easy, of course, but to lose so many, all at once, was simply heartbreaking.

Gori and Katakura never saw eye to eye, Gori with his utter lack of tact and Katakura with his sharp, impatient tongue. But they pushed each other harder than almost any other members of the 3rd. Given more time, they could have risen through the officer's seats. It wouldn't have been a surprise to see one of them wearing the Lieutenant's badge one day.

Togakushi had always been a bit too by-the-book for Rose's tastes, but he was a diligent worker and a reliable comrade. If ever there was a need to determine the best course of action for the 3rd Division, Togakushi could be trusted to make the right choice. If not for his rigidity, the man would have made for a strong Captain candidate in the future.

The barracks were thoroughly decimated, leaving dozens dead, and countless more missing in action. Rose had taken the time to memorize most of their faces. It was like a game, comparing each member to a song that could remind him of their names. Each and every face he'd never see again pained him, but even that feeling was dwarfed.

It felt wrong to admit, even as a thought, but out of all of the losses suffered by the 3rd Division, the one that hit him hardest, the one most tragic, was the loss of his Lieutenant. Kira Izuru was a gloomy man at the best of times. At times, it seemed, he would lose himself in the pain of his past and the harshness of reality, and fade away. And yet he always bounced back. Through the toughest of times, Kira Izuru held the 3rd Division together.

He was an inspiration.

"What's the matter, Captain? Bad news?" The drawn-out sound of the Quincy's voice barely reached Rose's ears. In truth, everything seemed distant. He was almost too withdrawn to react to the obvious taunt.

Almost. "It would appear that many of my subordinates have been killed. So yes. Very bad news." Despair was quickly boiling over into rage, but it wouldn't do to lash out now. The reports noted the presence of powerful Quincies that could stand up to the Captains. This man was clearly one of them.

Even at a distance, Rose could see himself reflected in the Quincy's enormous sunglasses. With so much of his face covered it would be hard to read his expressions, if not for the big, toothy grin pushing his cheeks up. The strange coloring of his teeth, like rows of piano keys, greatly enhanced the irritation factor. "That's a shame," he said, still smiling, "but hey, that's war for you."

"It certainly is." Rose loosened his grip on his Zanpakuto, allowing the long, cord-like length of it to settle on the ground at his feet. He'd released it as soon as the invasion began. Perhaps it was time for Bankai . . . No. If this turned into a protracted conflict, he'd need to keep the full extent of his abilities a secret. Shikai would suffice.

The Quincy shifted, raising his hands in a defensive stance. Strange. For Quincies, the bow was akin to the Shinigami's Zanpakuto, so why did he not pull his out? And would he not attack? The reports suggested that the more powerful Quincies were extremely aggressive. Did that make this man an exception, or was he not a member of their elite forces after all?

Rose twitched his hand to the side and the glimmering cord of Kinshara sprang to life, jumping into the air in front of him. If his opponent would not take the initiative, then he would. A quick flick sent the flowery tip of his sword shooting towards the grinning Quincy. In this form, Kinshara could not cut, but it could pierce as well as any blade.

The sudden attack almost struck true. Almost. The Quincy had all but watched the tip of Rose's blade run him through before dodging at the last possible second. In the blink of an eye he leaned, avoiding the attack with absolutely minimal movement.

There was no mistaking it now. This man was one of the elite. Which meant there was no reason at all to take things slow.

Waving his arm in wide arcs, Rose enveloped the Quincy in a flurry of whipping strikes. Each time Kinshara struck the ground, it tore through the paving and added sharp shards of rock into the mix. The seemingly wild flailing of the cord-like Zanpakuto created a zone of death, trapping the Quincy within and threatening to pulverize him.

But the Quincy made minute adjustments, leaned this way and that, and deftly stepped between the cracking whip until he was free of the onslaught. "Whoa now! Those are some crazy dangerous moves. A guy could die if he was hit by something like that." His toothy smile never faded as he aired his grievances, "I gotta say, I'm not down with the whole 'honorable fight to the death' thing. So bye." The Quincy's body flickered and he was gone.

A movement technique similar to Shunpo, was it? It was foolish to believe that would be enough to escape a Captain of the Gotei 13. Rose followed the obvious trail of Reiatsu the Quincy was leaving behind. He tracked the man with the keyboard smile to an intersection crowded with large buildings that looked as though they were pulled straight out of the Rukongai. So he was near the 9th Division barracks.

The trail ending was a troubling matter. The Quincy was definitely there, but he'd managed to disperse his presence in such a way that Rose could not pin down his exact location. And with all these multi story buildings with windows all along the sides, there was no shortage of hiding places.

"What's the matter, Captain? You lost or something?" The Quincy's voice echoed through the street, seeming to come from every direction at once.

"Come out and fight me, Quincy," Rose called up to the air, allowing his voice to carry to all of the buildings, "that _is_ why you led me here, isn't it? Nobody leaving such an obvious trail does so by accident."

"Bingo!" The Quincy laughed, "Saw right through me, didn't ya? I led you here, all right, but make no mistake, I ain't fighting you. Not yet, anyway."

"Do you intend to keep running then? You may be well hidden now, but it would not take me long at all to ferret you out. If you're intention is to wear me down, then you'd best give up now. I'm in no mood for games."

"I'm shaking in my boots over here! You're a real scary guy, Captain!" The echoing voice bounced off the walls, creating a mess of noise. It was not undecipherable, however. The echo was the same every time the Quincy spoke. It was all a matter of working back from there. "I don't have any plans to wear you out, though. See, I don't _need_ to fight or stay away from you. All I have to do is watch you to win. So go ahead, search to your heart's content! But you better hope you find me quick, otherwise you're dead!"

That final laugh was all Rose needed. He traced the sound back along the walls and street. Back to its source. He didn't hesitate once he knew where the Quincy was. A quick flick of his wrist sent Kinshara's tip shooting into a window over his shoulder. A solid jerk denoted a hit, and with a tug, the cord was pulled taut.

The Quincy wasn't smiling anymore. A red flower was blooming around Kinshara's bulb, staining his stark white vest. "That's . . . not fair . . . man." He moved to remove the tip of the blade from his chest, desperately grabbing the cord, but . . .

"Too late." Rose rapped his knuckles across the cord-like length of his Zanpakuto like an extra thick guitar string. The light vibration traveled along the now glowing cord, growing more and more intense until it reached the tip embedded in the Quincy's chest. An explosive shockwave demolished the room the Quincy was hiding in. The destruction spread as the weight of those walls coming down brought down the neighboring walls, which then caused the floor to cave. In the end, the entire building was demolished

For a brief moment, Rose considered offering his foe a mournful tune. The man was not a Hollow; not a mindless creature consumed by emptiness and fueled by a hunger for souls. Yet, he was a monster of another sort, as far as Rose was concerned.

He got what he deserved. No, better. To be slain by a Shinigami was to be guaranteed rebirth. Could this man's victims say the same?

No, they couldn't.


	9. Chapter 9

Byakuya was pelted by debris as he careened through the air. He flailed, swinging the hilt of his sword, sending a torrent of Senbon Zakura's petals through the destroyed building he'd been thrown from. With any luck, the attack would do some lasting damage this time. His hopes were dashed when Mask emerged from the storm of blades like a cannonball. Just as before, his clothes were torn to shreds, but any injuries he might have received were already healed. What was this durability?

Righting himself mid flight, Byakuya dove out of Mask's path. At this rate, his only option for defeating this man was to completely destroy his body. But could Senbon Zakura even do that? In his current state, Byakuya wasn't even sure if he could sever a limb, let alone annihilate an entire person. He pulled an injured arm tight to his body and swung his sword again. He had to at least keep up returning the pressure.

A pained gasp escaped from his throat as two Reishi spikes slammed into his back, burying themselves deep inside his body. Or so it seemed. Whether or not Äs Nodt's thorns left a wound appeared to depend on the user's will. There were no holes in Byakuya's back, so the intent wasn't to maim. Still, he clenched his jaw. His teeth would be chattering otherwise.

The true danger of Äs Nodt's attacks was not the possibility of injury, nor was it the pain of being stabbed. It was the Fear.

Horrible visions filled Byakuya's vision whether his eyes were open or closed. Fears that he'd thought conquered resurfaced in ways that made him want to wail in despair. Bugs engulfed his legs, threatening to consume him from the bottom up, Lightning crashed and boomed within inches of his body, the roar of thunder made him shudder, and ragged phantoms reached out to him with decaying fingers, pleading and cursing him for some unspecified sin.

None of them were real. He knew that. These were nothing more than hallucinations brought on by the Quincy's power. They couldn't do him any harm. _They aren't real!_ Just as Byakuya started to recover, a meaty, white-clad fist slammed into the side of his head, spiking him into the ground.

He'd have lost consciousness if not for the excruciating pain. The arm that was simply injured before was now pulverized. He couldn't even hold it to his body anymore. For a brief moment, he considered severing it. It was nothing more than dead weight at this point, after all. The Quincies didn't give him a chance to.

Mask descended right in front of Byakuya, shaking the ground with the impact of his landing. Äs Nodt emerged as well, his bottomless eyes boring through the Shinigami Captain. This was the worst position to be in. He needed to get away, but his legs wouldn't respond to his panicked desire to run. He couldn't tell if it was the Quincy's Fear that rooted him, or his own nerves.

"You're a persistent one, aren't you?" Mask laughed, planting his fists on his hips, "Very admirable! For a villain, that is." He wore a jovial smile, but that levity wasn't reflected in his eyes. "You have my respect, Captain, for putting up such a good fight against not only myself, but my comrade as well. Bravo!" He put a wide hand on Byakuya's shoulder as congratulations.

Senbon Zakura's petals took that arm, severing it at the elbow. The storm of petals continued to fall from the sky, spreading throughout the area. They shredded buildings. Stone, wood, or glass, it didn't matter. As long as those tiny blades covered his retreat, he could care less about preserving something that could be rebuilt.

He ran, trying to hold the Quincies within that cutting smokescreen. It wouldn't work, considering everything they'd pushed through so far, but he was truly out of options now. He needed something powerful to counter these opponents. Something like the techniques he'd used on Äs Nodt when they first clashed. That was impossible, though. Even focusing all of his strength on attacking Mask, he could barely manage to cut his arm off. Simply Maintaining Bankai was taking a tremendous amount of effort.

Byakuya chose the direction of his flight carefully. If he lost his wits and started moving back towards where Rukia and Renji were, they might get caught up in the fight again. That was too dangerous. He had to move away. Keep them safe.

Ravenous jaws and sickle-like claws grew from the buildings around him, threatening to eviscerate him should he get too close. He knew they weren't real. They couldn't be, but he avoided them anyway. The danger from Äs Nodt's Fear was more than the paralysis of his limbs and the muddying of his mind. They couldn't hurt him, but these hallucinations could certainly distract him, allowing one of his enemies to approach him unnoticed.

He needed help. It hurt his pride to admit, but it was true. Being indebted to one of the other Captains would be difficult to live down, but he'd manage somehow.

Fights were still raging all across the Seireitei. From where he was, Byakuya could tell that most of the Captains were still embroiled in some kind of conflict. Those that weren't were either too injured to be of use, or were incapacitated entirely. He couldn't lure the Quincies to the 4th Division barracks. That would just increase the casualties. He'd never be able to live with himself if he sacrificed his injured comrades to save his own hide. Such a course of action would not only bring him great shame, it would also very likely destroy the Kuchiki clan's reputation. As the family head, he . . .

No. The Fear was affecting him again. He had to stay focused. Captains . . . Who was available? Ōtoribashi, Zaraki, and Muguruma were the least occupied as far as he could tell, but they were the most distant. Hirako and Kurotsuchi were options, though Byakuya wasn't entirely sure how reliable they were. Could he impose on the Captain-Commander in this situation? Any of those would be fine. He just needed to make a decision.

A stabbing pain in his legs was the first sign that he hadn't put as much distance between himself and the Quincies as he thought. The second sign was the pair of boot heels driven into his shoulders from above.

Again, he plummeted to the ground. He managed to mitigate the damage somewhat; his arm wasn't any more broken, at least, but standing was a struggle. Several deep puncture wounds made his footing uneasy.

He wouldn't be running anymore.

"Please refrain from messing around anymore, Mask. We have a job to do." Äs Nodt's scratchy voice approached from behind. It sent shivers up Byakuya's spine.

Mask laughed as if he were having the time of his life, "Oh lighten up, Äs! His Majesty never said anything about having a little fun, did he? Heroes should have fun while the villains despair!"

Byakuya almost wanted to laugh himself. So _he_ was the villain here? If that was the case, then he shouldn't have to worry about using whatever underhanded tricks he could muster. The problem, then, was his utter lack of strength. What could he possibly do now, beaten and exhausted as he was?

What _would_ a villain do in this situation?

"That being said," Mask cracked his knuckles and turned to Byakuya, "you make a good point, Äs. The longer you let a villain like him live, the more likely he is to pull some shenanigans out of nowhere. So, without further ado, I will administer the finishing blow!"

It was a struggle just to stay upright, but Byakuya held his ground. He couldn't afford to direct any of his focus away from the enemies in front of him, even to breathe. The crunch of Mask's boots on the pavement rang loud in his ears, and the surroundings faded into darkness. The only thing that existed was the man in front of him. And the beyond.

Mask raised his arm, fist clenched and ready, and triggered the trap. As many petals as Byakuya could muster burst from the surrounding rubble. He recklessly directed them through his safe zone, throwing care for his own well being out the window entirely. The surging torrent slammed into Mask with enough force to hold him back. Just enough. The masked Quincy wasn't the target of this attack.

A villain wouldn't face the enemy right in front of him, he'd strike at the bystanders and supporters. Thousands of blades engulfed a satisfyingly wide eyed Äs Nodt. If he could take down one of them, then maybe he could hold on a little longer. If he could just weaken them a little, he could get away and recover. He could feel his petals cutting and slicing. They were doing damage. It was working!

Äs Nodt casually stepped out of the storm of blades. He was completely unscathed. As if responding to Byakuya's sinking stomach, he reached up and removed the mask covering his nose and mouth. What lay beneath was monstrous. A beastly jaw with jagged, malformed teeth. Black slime oozed down his chin and flames licked at the air from within vacant eye sockets. He was cackling, a noise like scraping metal overpowering every other sound.

Byakuya pushed harder. He couldn't afford to believe the things he was seeing. It was just the Fear. His mind was being manipulated. That horrific vision wasn't real. If he could only eliminate the source of his fear . . .

A large hand reached out of the storm of petals and gripped Byakuya by the neck, lifting him off the ground.

"I take back what I said before, Captain." There was a dangerous glint in Mask's eyes. Between the tears in his mask and the absence of any sort of smile, it was clear that he was no longer having fun. "A villain who lashes out in desperation instead of accepting defeat is nothing more than a coward. You deserve no respect whatsoever." He flung the Shinigami like a piece of garbage, burying him in a wall.

Byakuya's shoulders slumped. If he weren't stuck in the wall, he'd have collapsed. He could barely breathe, the simple action of expanding his lungs taking more energy than he had left.

This was it, then. Nothing short of a miracle could save him now. Even if the Quincies left him alone, he'd surely die on his own. But considering the fight he put up, he doubted they'd do that. They'd want to take revenge for giving them so much grief. For some reason, he was proud of himself for doing that much, at least.

To fall so far that he had to take pride in running away . . . death certainly was cruel.

The pain pulsing throughout his entire body almost muted the stabbing pain of Äs Nodt's thorns slamming into his gut. Almost. He wasn't sure when they stopped-he began to lose feeling soon after the assault began-but eventually the sensation ended. It was replaced by a rapidly spreading coldness, starting in his abdomen and quickly taking his legs.

He felt his pulse weakening as darkness crashed in from the edges of his vision. He couldn't see anymore, nor could he hear. The taste of blood was gone, as was the pain. Only the cold and the weakening sensation of his heartbeat remained. It was over. Byakuya prepared the last vestiges of his rational mind for the end.

He was scared. And it wasn't the effect of Äs Nodt's ability this time. All the years he'd lived, the strength that he had attained . . . did any of it really matter in the end? He'd always taken the life span of spirit beings for granted. Death always seemed a far-off problem. It was never more than an uncomfortable hypothetical, really, but now it was enveloping him and all he could do was think about how he never thought it would happen.

Byakuya's mind raced in a desperate bid to escape reality. He pleaded to anybody and raged when nobody responded. He hoped for that miracle that might save him, and despaired at the foolishness of the notion. There had to be something he could grasp. Something that could keep his consciousness intact even as his body failed. His mind worked furiously. The cold was creeping up his neck now.

In his final moments, as his heart gave out and thought became hazy, he landed on his last true hope: Rukia and Renji would live. Those two were his future. They would be the inheritors of his will, he was sure. He believed he had managed to take the Quincies far enough away. He believed they were not fatally wounded. He believed they would recover and help drive back the Quincy threat. He believed.

Until his consciousness faded away entirely, he believed.

\+ Shift +

"Goodness, that looks like it hurts! Are you going to be alright, Äs?" Mask leaned over his bloody comrade. The concern in his voice was at least half genuine.

"That depends," the shaky reply came, "is that damn Shinigami dead?" Äs Nodt, to his credit, managed to push himself to his knees, but couldn't go any further without help.

Mask easily lifted the wispy Quincy to his feet and laughed, "Seems so! And good riddance! He was starting to get on my nerves. You feel the same, don't you, Äs?"

Äs grunted what was likely affirmation. Well, it was more of a gurgle. Those tiny blades really did a number on the guy. Blood was seeping out of cuts all over his body, and his face was in particularly bad shape. It would be no surprise if Mask had to pick him up and carry him back to the fortress.

Hopefully he could last until they were at least half way there. Mask was in pretty bad shape himself, after all. The thought of confronting that Shinigami when he was uninjured and fresh for battle made Mask clench his jaw.

"What's the matter, Äs? Did you catch a cold? You're trembling like crazy!" Mask laughed, joking partially to cover his own shakiness.

He could barely make out Äs Nodt's mumbled reply, "I'll kill them all myself. If I have to. Save the world. Salvation. For His Majesty. All for his Majesty. They will fear me. Fear. Fear me." His dark eyes rolled like a panicked animal's. He didn't seem to be fully conscious anymore.

Mask shrugged uncomfortably, but he felt the same in some ways. He wasn't big on the 'fear' idea, but serving His Majesty was something any self respecting Quincy could get behind.

He laughed, dragging his bloody comrade behind him. The conversation would be sorely lacking, but as long as Äs kept ranting like that, their trek back would at least be interesting.

\+ break +

A thousand years.

That's how long it had been since he'd last seen this sky. If only he could have returned under better circumstances. Wishful thinking. As long as the corruption of the Balance faction-no, they called themselves _Shinigami_ now-persisted, there was no other way than this. They wouldn't see reason, so force was necessary.

Yhwach strode down the fetid streets of the so-called 'Soul Society' considering the state of the battle. To call it a disaster would be just short of optimistic. The core Quincy forces easily matched those of the Shinigami in terms of both numbers and strength on their own. With Jugo distributing power among the ranks, they should have overtaken the enemy in every aspect.

And yet they were evenly matched. Disturbingly so.

Casualties were to be expected. But for there to be so many of them was more than troubling. The Quincy forces didn't need to win, though, just occupy the Shinigami forces long enough for Yhwach to complete his objective. To that end, he'd deployed every Sternritter that hadn't been incapacitated by transporting the Wandenreich into the walls of the Seireitei. But still, they fell. His elite force, raised specifically to counter the monstrous Shinigami Captains, were being defeated far too quickly. If only more than a few of the stronger Sternritter could have been able to fight after the move.

More wishful thinking. There were more important things to focus on. "Jugo, where is the Ishida boy?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Your Majesty. I seem to have lost track of him somehow." Jugo followed close behind, looking troubled. He'd invested more than enough of his power into Ishida Uryu to be able to keep track of his presence individually. "I am sorry, Your Majesty, but I fear he has been captured."

Yhwach kept his eyes forward. "Do not waste time worrying over it. Our goal has not changed."

"As you say," he said, quickening his steps to match Yhwach's pace, but Jugo wouldn't let it go that easily. He could be too committed to carrying out the tasks he'd been given at times.

Having the Ishida boy seek out Ukitake Jūshirō was merely a contingency from the start, so it was nothing to lament. As long as they found the Captain of the 13th Division and captured him, they could still grasp victory.

"Stay focused, Jugo. The enemy is still ignorant to our objective, so we have the upper hand. One or two foiled plans won't stop us."

"Yes, Your Majesty." That was more like it. Even someone as motivated as Jugo needed a push every so often. "We must take advantage of their ignorance and strike before Yamamoto makes his move."

That was true, to a point. Yamamoto was without a doubt the greatest threat, but that wasn't to say there weren't other roadblocks that could halt their progress. Most of the Special War Potentials were confirmed to be occupied, but there were still others that they hadn't yet managed to lock down. The one called Kenpachi, for example, was nearly as great a threat as Yamamoto himself. That devil woman devastated a good portion of his forces all on her own a thousand years earlier.

The Head Priest would be an equally inconvenient interloper, but so long as they could end the conflict before it escalated, he should have no reason to get involved.

"Your Majesty!" Jugo rushed ahead, drawing his blade. And for good reason. An unbelievably powerful spiritual pressure, barreling towards them, raised his hackles, and Yhwach's as well. It wasn't Yamamoto, or the Kenpachi, or the Head Priest, but whoever it was possessed a power significant enough that they could not afford to take it lightly. "I know it is early, but I'm going to take back my power. Please go ahead while I occupy this threat."

Yhwach grabbed Jugo's shoulder and squeezed. He really was too loyal at times. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Jugo. Our forces need that power. Taking it back now would only doom them and end our plans."

"I'm not sure I can hold this person off without it, Your Majesty."

"Not alone, perhaps." Yhwach stepped up, unsheathing his own sword, "We will fight together."

"No! If you get caught up in some random encounter here, the Shinigami will be able to sense your presence. It would be in our best interests for you to stay hidden." Jugo's sword hand trembled and his eyebrows were tightly knit. He was trying desperately not to snap at his king, and only partially succeeding.

"Just as our forces need your power, I need you, Jugo. One or two failed plans won't stop us, but if the foundation itself falls out from under us, there will be no way for us to recover. You are as important to our plan as I am. So I will fight alongside you, and together we will find Ukitake." With one last squeeze, Yhwach released Jugo's shoulder. The younger man would shudder at the thought, for certain, but in circumstances such as these, they couldn't afford to maintain a master-servant dynamic. They needed to support each other as equals or fall.

Jugo held his tongue. He disagreed, of course, but that powerful enemy was almost upon them. When it arrived, Yhwach felt a lump form in his stomach.

The Shinigami was tall, and muscular without being bulky. His wild, unkempt hair matched the menacing look in his eyes. His spiritual pressure was so intense that Yhwach felt it weighing him down in a way he hadn't felt in a thousand years. Of all of the miscalculations and blunders the Quincies had faced, not identifying this man was the worst thus far.

Yhwach met the monster Shinigami's eyes and held there. He would not back down from any enemy. Not when he had finally acquired the means to save the world. In his periphery he could see bodies, he realized. Was this threat so great that it blinded him to all but the immediate danger?

There were three of them, two balanced on his shoulder and one hanging from his grip. They were Sternritter. Yhwach clenched his jaw. His ignorance had caused this. _Shaz, Lloyd, Berenice, forgive me. I will not allow your deaths to go unavenged._ But first . . .

"I would know your name before lopping off your impudent head. Speak, Shinigami!"

"My name?" The monster Shinigami laughed. "Who cares about that? These three didn't, that's for sure." He reached up with his free hand and pulled one of the corpses from his shoulder. "This one just ran up to me and tried to talk my ears off." He dropped Berenice's body like so much trash and grabbed the other body. "This guy wouldn't die no matter how many times I killed him. So I killed him over and over until he stopped coming back to life. Didn't say a word to me."

"_This guy_ though?" He raised up the body in his other hand, "He was _real_ interesting. Turned into me. It was like I was actually fighting myself. He was probably the most fun I've had in ages." With the same irreverent nonchalance the Shinigami dropped Shaz and Lloyd. He stepped on them as if they were the same as the stones paving the road. "You're the leader of these guys, aren't you?"

"That's correct," Yhwach replied, holding out a hand to settle Jugo down, "I am Yhwach, the Quincy king. Now, tell me your name, or else you will die anonymous." This was dangerous. He held Jugo back, but he this man's boasting put him on the verge of lashing out himself.

"Well then, Quincy king, I hope you're stronger than your lackeys because I'm your opponent. Captain of Division 11, Zaraki Kenpachi."

\+ Break +

Yamamoto Genryūsai closed his eyes on the destruction spreading throughout the Seireitei. The scale of the conflict was such that he had no need to see. He could feel the ebb and flow of fighting in his bones. It made his blood boil.

"Try the _Tenteikūra _again," He said, suppressing an irritated sigh. The officers behind him set to work immediately, drawing out the appropriate symbols and reciting the incantation. Yamamoto didn't need to see to know that the technique failed. It hadn't succeeded once since the invasion began and there was little chance it would suddenly start to work now, but nobody could say he didn't try.

The Quincies had discovered a way to disrupt the Kidō spell, somehow rendering its incantation inert or intercepting the flow of power to make the technique useless. The loss of the _Tenteikūra_-just one technique-was devastating. It completely dismantled Yamamoto's plan from the ground up.

"Forget it," Yamamoto waved his hand, dismissing the officers. At this point, restoring the _Tenteikūra_ wouldn't shift the battle in one direction or another. With every wave of Reishi that reached the barracks, he could feel the conflict balancing out. That was concerning.

The enemy's force was enormous. The number of soldiers that flooded from that eyesore of a fortress was nothing to laugh at. But even so, the Shinigami forces dwarfed the Quincies'. It should have been an easy victory, but now the scales were evening out.

If it weren't for the Captains of the Gotei 13, this little war would have ended as an embarrassing farce. Against equally powerful enemies, the Shinigami Captains were more than holding their own. They were overcoming the disadvantage of being caught off guard and thinning out the enemy elite one by one. Even in the few cases in which they were losing, they were managing to escape with their lives.

It was difficult to decide whether he should be hopeful or dismayed by this trade off, but Yamamoto was certain that if things continued as they were, it would be the Shinigami who came up short.

Already one Lieutenant was dead. Another two were incapacitated. A fourth was isolated and in peril. Two Captains were taken out of the fight without bringing their opponents down with them. Two others managed to emerge victorious, with the rest engaged in battle or otherwise occupied. It was a volatile situation that could turn sour at the drop of a hat.

Another wave of Reishi brought new information. The balance had shifted once again, but this time the Shinigami gained ground. Ōtoribashi was cutting down Quincies with ruthless efficiency, Unohana was discharging patients as quickly as they could be brought to the 4th Division, Shunsui's fight was winding down, and Zaraki was engaged with . . . someone. That was an odd feeling. It was like his senses were being blinded to whoever it was the Kenpachi was fighting.

If only he could have nearby communications officers scout out the scene. An ability that masked one's presence so complexly was of real concern. He'd have to grill the 11th Division's Captain after the fighting was over to-

A void opened up in Yamamoto's awareness of the Seireitei. Even between waves of Reishi it was too catastrophic a change not to register. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Captain Kuchiki Byakuya's Reiatsu was gone. A hopeful spark inside of him wanted to believe that the Captain's presence was just being hidden, like that mysterious enemy's, but the reality was too apparent to delude himself. There was no telling how many powerful assets the enemy had at their disposal; the Shinigami Captains were a limited resource that could not be easily replenished.

There was no time to mourn.

Yamamoto stepped out of the 1st Division barracks and into the sky above the Seireitei and let his power surge out over the battlefield.

\+ Shift +

Lieutenant Hisagi Shūhei desperately gasped for breath. A cloud of dust almost made him choke, and chunks of stone stabbed into his back and sides. How many times had he lost consciousness now? The number had to be high; his whole body ached as if he'd been driven through hundreds of walls.

He pushed himself up, ignoring the disconcerting numbness in the ends of his limbs. The chains of his Zanpakuto slid from his arms, chest, and from around his neck. _One of these times,_ he thought, _this thing is going to strangle me._ He rocked onto wobbly legs and collected the sprawled length of this sword. In that, at least, he had no trouble.

"You're something else, you know that? Are you more resilient than most Lieutenants, or was that guy from the 1st just weaker?" The Quincy that had been pummeling Shūhei-for what felt like hours at this point-laughed. His voice was like a rumbling thunderstorm. Lightning flashed in his glassy, hungry eyes.

Shūhei spat, partially to get rid of the blood pooling in his mouth, and partially to expel the foul taste facing this man gave him. This was the man that killed Lieutenant Sasakibe, or so he claimed. It was hard not to doubt a story like that, but his boasts were backed up by an incredible power that made Shūhei want to flee for his life.

And boy did he want to. A man could only be thrown through buildings so long before he started to fear for his own well-being. Even so, he couldn't let this bloodthirsty Quincy go. He needed to hold him off until reinforcements could arrive.

The thing was, he wasn't sure if could hold an enemy of this caliber by himself. He didn't want to die, but he didn't have any choice other than standing up and taking a beating over and over. If only his luck could hold out just a little longer.

A blazing power flooded over him for mere seconds before the Captain-Commander touched down. Shūhei felt like crying, but even if he did, his tears probably would have dried up before touching his cheeks. Yamamoto's presence sucked the moisture out of everything around him, the people as much as the air.

The pressure from the Quincy's intense gaze vanished as he directed his attention to the Captain-Commander. "Now this is a treat! To think that I would be fortunate enough to come face to face with the big man himself!" He said, excitement bringing the volume of his voice high enough to shatter glass. "Let me guess, you want to take revenge on me for killing your _precious Lieutenant_. Is that right? How sweet!" If arrogance sounded like anything, it would sound like this man's earth-rattling laugh.

Yamamoto barely glanced at the braggart, instead focusing on Shūhei, "Are you alright, Lieutenant Hisagi?" Despite the oppressive power radiating from him, the Captain-Commander sounded genuinely concerned. The impression of a kindly grandfather came through strong. If only the expression on his face didn't make Shūhei's heart stop.

"Y-yes sir . . ." It was all he could do to get those words out. Absently, he added a shallow nod, but Yamamoto was already turning away. He was facing the Quincy.

The urge to run away surged stronger than ever. Yamamoto had been furious when Aizen Sōsuke threatened the Soul Society a couple of years ago, but this was on another level. More than even his absurd power, Yamamoto's rage was suffocating. And he was about to take that rage out just a short distance from where Shūhei stood.

Why did his legs choose _now_ to stop working?

"Want to know how I managed to kill that Lieutenant of yours? I promise it's a fun story." The Quincy ran his meaty fingers through the cluster of tight curls on his head. Yamamoto fixed him with a deadly glare, but he kept going anyway. "I've got this power, see? It's a power that makes me stronger the more I kill. Doesn't matter if it's a Shinigami, a human, a Hollow, or a bug. I get a boost for every life I snuff out. So, all I had to do was gobble up a bunch of those souls living out in the boonies, and presto! I was a hot knife and your buddy was butter!" The Quincy was laughing so hard that he didn't see Yamamoto raise his sword.

In the split second before the blinding bright flames forced his eyes shut, Shūhei saw the Quincy's body burn away. Ryūjin Jakka's fire disintegrated skin, muscle, and finally, bone in an instant. The aftermath of the attack was so intense that Shūhei's skin tingled with the onset of a light burn. Just from being nearby. The Captains were monster, but the Captain-Commander was in a league of his own.

"Lieutenant Hisagi," before Shūhei could even open his eyes Yamamoto spoke to him, "Since you are uninjured, go assist some of your struggling comrades. We do not have time to waste standing around." And with that, he left. He was just gone. How could someone that old be so fast?

Impassable gaps aside, the Captain-Commander was right. Shūhei wasn't sure _how_ he was in anything resembling good shape, but he shouldn't squander that good fortune. He needed to do what he could to help.

Maybe if his luck was really strong, he could run into Captain Muguruma. That would be a relief.


	10. Chapter 10

Ichigo's arms felt like they would fall off if he continued to swing his Zanpakuto, but he wouldn't stop. Not when his friends were in trouble.

Outside of the Jail was a scene he couldn't stomach. That Quincy bastard was ruthlessly beating his friends. Inoue's barriers were holding, and Chad's attacks were doing damage when they connected, but that wasn't enough.

Chad roared, firing a thick beam of energy from his fist, but Quilge avoided it without any apparent effort. He fired a volley of blue-white bolts, so Inoue moved in to defend, but not before a few of those shots connected. They couldn't keep up. The Quincy outpaced them from the start, but now they presented no threat whatsoever. He was toying with them.

"Open up, damn it!" Ichigo cried, his voice hoarse. He powered through the aching in his joints and swung his sword again and again. The impacts traveled up his arms, numbing them up to the elbow now. The only thing keeping his grip solid on Zangetsu's hilt was his desire to help his friends. At this point, he wasn't sure he had anything left.

He gulped down air, doing his best to ignore the burning in his lungs. He raised his sword to try again, but his legs buckled and he staggered. He blinked away streams of sweat flowing into his eyes and tried to catch his breath. He needed rest.

A bolt took Chad in the shoulder, sending him to the ground hard. Inoue rushed to his side, but Quilge was there in the same breath. She tried to repel him, but his arm blurred, sending her skidding along the riverbank.

Blood streamed down the side of her face and her eye was swollen, but it didn't look like she was cut anywhere. Still, it clearly took a considerable effort to just get her shoulders off the ground. She raised her hands to launch a counter attack, but Quilge smiled. He shot a bolt into Chad's leg, forcing a pained howl from his throat. Seeing her friend in pain, Inoue hesitated, and in the next moment Quilge was on top of her. He stomped down and blood flew from her mouth.

"No! Get off of her, you bastard!" Ichigo wasn't even sure if his voice could escape this prison, but he screamed anyway. He had to help them! Somehow!

The Quincy rose into the air with a casual smirk. He approached the bars of his Jail and ran the end of his blade across the gaps. "How does it feel, Kurosaki Ichigo? It must be painful to be so powerless. I simply can't imagine." The sinister coolness in his voice melted into a grating cackle.

Ichigo gritted his teeth. He was torn between staring death at the Quincy and trying to see if his friends were alright. Chad was struggling just to get off his back, but Inoue wasn't moving. The cage felt like it was shrinking, as if desperation was pushing the bars closer and closer, trying to snuff him out.

He had to do something. Anything.

"Why are you doing this? I don't have anything against the Quincies!" Ichigo got as close to the bars as he could and pleaded. He wouldn't normally be able to stomach doing something like this, but his friends were in danger. He'd grind his forehead into the ground if he had to, as long as he could buy more time to figure out how to get out of there.

"Tch, tch," Quilge clicked his tongue and waggled a finger, "I see what you are trying to do, Kurosaki, and I must say that I am disappointed. In this situation, you should curse me and exhaust yourself trying to get to me as I kill your friends. The despair is so much less delightful when you give up before the good part."

"Wait!" Ichigo shouted as the Quincy began to descend, "Wait, damn you!"

"It's too late for that now, Kurosaki. You've already sapped all of the fun out of this. I'm going to kill your friends, so just sit there quietly and wait your turn."

The air seemed to thin as Ichigo tried to catch his breath. His lungs worked overtime, but still his vision began to swim. He felt cold and his whole body shook. Inoue and Chad were going to die, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

He screamed, shredding his throat and powering through exhaustion. He was running on the dregs of fumes, raising his sword in both hands. His voice cracked and clipped with each swing. Even after his arms went completely numb, he swung as hard as he could, and he'd keep swinging until the Jail, his sword, or his arms broke.

His knees started to wobble, but he had no energy left to brace himself. Everything he had was going into his attacks on the Jail, and that was going fast. _Getsuga Tensho_ had been as useless as everything else so far, but it was worth trying again. He tried to pump as much spiritual energy into Zangetsu as he could, and came up short. In the end, he just tired himself out even more.

It was over.

Ichigo's mind churned through the haze of exhaustion as hope faded. There had to be something he could do. Anything to stop that bastard before he could get to his friends.

With his body almost completely spent, he made one more desperate attempt at breaking free. Unable to swing his sword any longer, he tried to strike at the cage with his raw Reiatsu. He gathered Reishi in his chest, arms, and legs, trying to force it out of himself somehow. But no matter how much power he pushed through his limbs, nothing came out. All that happened was the cold feeling vanishing; replaced by a warmth, and then searing heat.

His strength was not returning-the creaking in his joints and the distant sensation of movement made that perfectly clear-but he forced his arms to move anyway. He raised his Zanpakuto above his head and brought it down. The blade collided with the bright white bars with a satisfying clang.

That hadn't happened before. Not a single attack had produced such a solid sound until that one. Ichigo raised Zangetsu overhead once more, finding it easier than before, and swung. Another hard clang. The vibrations shooting through his hands felt so real.

His body flared with the heat of the Reishi flowing through, and with every swing of his sword he regained more strength. The attacks came out faster and faster, until he was swinging nonstop. The haze clouding his mind was burned away and his eyes focused on his goal.

The Quincy hadn't yet descended on his friends. He was stopped just above the ground, looking back up at the Jail. The look on his face was plain to see, even with those dark glasses. Disbelief and horror slackened his jaw and opened his eyes wide.

Barely containing his power, Ichigo directed all of the molten energy coursing through his veins into his sword. His Reiatsu swelled, filling the Jail, and with one last shout he threw everything he had at the cage.

"_Getsuga . . . Tensho!_" The bars of the cage shook and cracked under the weight of Ichigo's immense spiritual pressure. Already he was feeling liberated. His blade struck the glowing Jail and sunk into its bright white energy. It was slow going at first, and the Jail resisted him every inch, but he forced the edge deeper and deeper.

The Jail exploded, and so did Ichigo's power. The shockwave raised tall waves in the river below, flooding the bank. The air crackled and popped, the booming noise of the collision of powers echoing off of buildings in the distance. Any grass that wasn't drowned in river water was forced flat against the ground.

Ichigo himself descended towards the bank where his friends lay injured. Or rather, he fell. The heat inside of him dissipated faster than it had built up in the first place. He could barely move his limbs let alone direct himself with any sort of finesse. His eyes darted, searching for the enemy that imprisoned him, but Quilge was nowhere to be seen. Exhaustion returned with a vengeance and Ichigo's consciousness winked in and out as he landed face first in the sopping wet grass beside Inoue.

Her eyes were open. She was looking at him. There was a trail of blood staining her chin, but she looked relieved. She reached out to him, and he reached out to her. Or he thought he did, at least. He felt so weak that he wasn't even sure if any of this was actually happening.

Inoue was struggling to prop herself up and move closer, but she was clearly exhausted as well as injured. She was still a few feet away when his eyelids fell shut and sleep took him.

\+ Break +

Yhwach took ragged breaths through clenched teeth. Sweat poured down his face following the lines in his skin. For the first time in centuries, he was reminded of his age. Not terribly old by the standards of Souls, but not all that young either. Jugo was younger-by a few hundred years or so-but his youthfulness didn't help him against the Captain of the 11th Division. He was unconscious a short distance away. Not dead, fortunately. It would take more than a beating from some barbarian to kill the Quincies' second in command.

Speaking of the barbarian, Yhwach tightened his grip on the Shinigami's neck. He held the so-called _Kenpachi_ a few inches off the ground. A considerable effort considering their similar height and the aches in Yhwach's body. This wild man was fierce, as they had feared-certainly deserving a spot on the list of Special War Potentials-but his strength paled in comparison to the Kenpachi that terrorized the Quincies a thousand years prior.

A disappointment through and through. Not only could this man not live up to his namesake, but now Yhwach's presence was surely exposed. If only this poor excuse for a Kenpachi had been a true weakling. At least then Yhwach would not have had to push himself. Wishful thinking.

His grip tightened. He and Jugo would have to retreat, but not before this _mongrel_ was dealt with. He squeezed, trying to crush the Shinigami Captain's windpipe and spine in one fell swoop.

A terrible heat washed over Yhwach, accompanied by an earth-shaking crash. The pit that had formed in his stomach when the so-called Kenpachi appeared turned to ice despite the sweltering atmosphere threatening to melt him where he stood. He turned to face the core of a raging inferno manifest.

"It seems time has not been kind to you, Yamamoto Shigekuni," Yhwach smirked at the withered old man enveloped in flames. "Last I recall, you didn't have a strand of white hair to your name, and it took the defeat of half of your precious Gotei to bring you out." False bravado might buy him time, but he was stuck.

"You are as much a fool as you were a thousand years ago, Yhwach." A single step brought the old Shinigami within arm's reach, his flaming sword already coming down. With only a fraction of a second to react, Yhwach raised his arm to defend. The blade carved into his shoulder and wrist.

He hopped back, holding his bleeding arm close to his body. Surprisingly, Yamamoto did not pursue right away. "Seems that . . ." Yhwach winced at the pain of extending his arm, but it would only get stiff if he didn't make use of it, "No matter how much time passes, you'll always let your anger get the best of you, Yamamoto."

"Nonsense." Yamamoto swung his blade upwards, creating a wave of flame that rushed towards Yhwach. The ground crumbled and burning chunks of stone pelted his body. Swinging his own sword deflected most of the force of the attack, but the damage was still building up. "You've drawn your sword. Good." Yamamoto's eyes glowed like hot coals and his flames grew, engulfing the entire area.

"Were you waiting for me to arm myself, old man? I hope you don't regret not killing me on the first stroke." Activating Blut stopped the bleeding, and there was little stiffness. The persistent ache was going to be a problem, though.

"I won't." Yamamoto lowered his blade, letting it hang almost casually to one side. "Because now, I can annihilate everything that you are; your body, your soul, and your sword."

The air shimmered, and the intense orange light from the old Shinigami's flames disappeared. A wispy trail of smoke rose from Yamamoto's charred blade. Beads of sweat formed on Yhwach's forehead. Even if the fire was gone, the heat persisted.

No, it was much hotter than before. And the temperature seemed to be rising still.

"Bankai. Zanka no Tachi."

Yhwach swallowed. He couldn't look away from the scorched sword in Yamamoto's hand. That blade had obliterated the Quincy forces time and again, more so than any other threat they faced in the conflict a thousand years ago. That blade was destruction incarnate.

"You recognize this sword . . . good." Baring his teeth. Yamamoto lifted his Zanpakuto, "I never once brought it against you personally back then. But now, it is time for you to experience its power with your own body."

Trying to swallow his nerves again did no good. Yhwach's throat was dry as a desert. The sweat streaming down his face had all dried up as well. It was just like before. This sudden drought was an omen of death. A grimace led to a split lip. Tightening his grip made the skin on his hands crack. His eyes seemed to shrivel if he went more than a few seconds without blinking.

"Are you so desperate to defeat me that you are willing to destroy all of Soul Society, Yamamoto?!" Fear caused the Quincy King's voice to falter. There would be no more false bravado from him.

"No. You will fall long before this place is threatened." A single step closed the gap once again, but Yhwach was ready. He leaped back, dodging clear of the tip of the now blackened blade. At least, that should have been the case.

No flames erupted from the sword, yet a large swathe of Yhwach's cloak burned away. How?

He tried to get away, but the Shinigami followed him closely. Another swing came, so he dodged with much more urgency, making sure he wasn't even clipped. Yamamoto's blade struck the ground where Yhwach was standing and a massive smoldering fissure opened up.

"The edge . . ." All of that fire, all of that heat, was now focused exclusively on Zanka no Tachi's cutting edge. Yhwach could do little more than stare, stunned by such unbelievable destructive power.

"That's right. This is Zanka no Tachi's East Form: _Kyokujitsujin_. All of my power is focused on the tip of my blade. Anything it touches will be eradicated. No exceptions." Yamamoto's voice was level. He wasn't angry or excited. He wasn't bragging about his power, either. It was the simple truth.

_If only this old man hadn't appeared!_ Yhwach banished that thought as soon as it slid across his consciousness. Wishful thinking accomplished nothing. If anything, it would get him killed here. He couldn't let himself get hit-Blut Vene wouldn't stand up to that kind of power for even a moment-so there was only one option remaining.

He had to strike down the Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 before his power could get any more out of hand! Yhwach forced himself to step forward. In a flash he was in range to attack. He swung his sword and cleaved clean through the overconfident old man.

A triumphant shout almost escaped his mouth before he realized the Shinigami was uninjured. That wasn't right. He was well in range for his sword to make a solid hit, and he felt the distinct resistance of cutting through a person. His eyes rolled in sudden panic to the sword in his hand. Half the blade, the part that should have ended Yamamoto's life, was gone. Instinct forced him back. Whatever happened, it was not safe to be too near his opponent.

"You look confused, boy. Perhaps you are as deaf as you were a thousand years ago." The air around Yamamoto's body seemed to melt, "Zanka no Tachi has an East Form, so it stands to reason that it should also have a West Form, correct?" Yhwach's eyes widened in horror. "I'll make it easy for you. You should be able to see it now. Zanka no Tachi West Form: _Zanjitsu Gokui_." It was as if all of the flames that had been scorching the area when he first arrived were condensed and wrapped around Yamamoto's body. No, it was as if he had _become_ those flames.

It would have been easy enough to imagine such a thing, but actually seeing it made the heat that much more intense. What once was dry was now burning. Yhwach couldn't shake the feeling that he was moments from erupting into flames himself. Every part of him felt like a match in the process of being struck.

Retreat came screaming to the forefront of his mind as Yamamoto's intensity bore down on him. He quickly glanced at Jugo, who was just starting to stir. The Quincies couldn't afford to lose the source of most of the regular army's power.

"Do you know why I let you escape all those years ago, Yhwach?" The old man's voice came out like a searing wind. "It was because I sympathized with you. You had every right to be upset. Every right to feel betrayed. And although I did not agree with your decision to strike at the Soul Society's nobility, I understood the feelings that drove you to it. I had hoped that in your exile, you would have calmed down and reflected on your actions. On all of the lives you took, and all of the comrades you lost. I had hoped that our next meeting, should it ever come, would have been civil."

Yamamoto walked forward. The crunch of dirt beneath his steady footfalls rang like cannon fire in Yhwach's ears. "But you have disappointed me, boy. You squandered my generosity and spent all of this time plotting your foolish revenge." The old Shinigami stopped and held his sword out to the side, "I will give you the option to turn away now. Run, and never return to this Soul Society ever again. But know this: no matter where you go, I will chase you down and destroy you once and for all!" There was deadly truth in those words.

Yhwach moved before he could think. He dropped what remained of his sword and drew back. His bow materialized drawn and ready to fire. A massive arrow shining with blue-white light tore up the ground as it shot towards the Shinigami.

It struck Yamamoto and released a monstrous shockwave that cleared the area of smaller rubble. When the dust cleared, though, the old man stood firm. He blocked the attack with the hilt of his sword, as if to catch it in his fingers. "Your attacks won't reach!" The old man leapt into the air.

There had to be something that could break through this monster's defenses! "Kirchenlied!" Yhwach raised his hand. Several glowing rods emerged from his palm and fell through the ground, creating a wide area of bright white light. "_Sankt Zwinger!_" the field of white erupted with pillars of light.

Anyone who entered that space would be struck down by his power. It was the ultimate Quincy spell, stronger than any the Shinigami could muster.

"You just don't learn!" Yamamoto fell just ahead of Yhwach, well within _Sankt Zwinger_'s zone. He stabbed the tip of his sword into the ground, "_Corpses and Ash, I grant you a chance to experience life once more_." The ground rumbled instead of splitting open. Rocks shifted and tumbled alongside a horrible grinding noise. "Zanka no Tachi South Form: _Kaka Jūmanokushi Daisōjin!_"

"What . . . is this?"

Blackened bones emerged from the ground all around. They were corpses, innumerable corpses, burned to nothing but charcoal and reformed into the vague shape of people. Each shambling form fixed its gaze on Yhwach. A faint glow in their empty sockets made him shiver.

"What you see before you are the remains of each and every life I have taken with my Zanpakuto. I have raised them to hunt and kill you, Yhwach. They will pursue you until nothing of you remains." Yamamoto's voice rang hollow in the Quincy king's ears.

All of these _things_ were individuals that the Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 had slain? That was madness. The philosophy of the Balancers called for the constant recycling of souls. Every soul was supposed to be in constant motion from life to death and back again. But this . . . this _hellish vision_ went against all of that. It was an abomination!

"How many?" Yhwach's voice trembled, "How many souls have you imprisoned in that blade, Yamamoto Shigekuni?! Is the balance that you Shinigami so desperately fight to defend truly so rotten?"

"Your condemnation means nothing, _Quincy_. I do what I must to maintain order."

"You demon!"Yhwach flooded his veins with as much Reishi as they could hold. The two forms of Blut were unusable in tandem for most every Quincy, but his power was great enough to withstand the strain. No matter the risk to himself, this monster had to be stopped. He leaped at the Shinigami leader, righteous fury boiling his blood, "You make a mockery of both the Enders and Balancers, Yamamoto! I will destroy you with my own hands and save the world from your evil!"

Pillars of charred skeletons rose up to block his path, but he mercilessly blasted through them. They were as fragile as they looked, after all. However, each cluster of bones he destroyed gave way to another, and another. After pushing through a dozen such corpse towers Yhwach fully understood the horror of this unholy technique. Individually, the skeletons could probably barely overpower an entirely ordinary person, but as an army, they could hammer away at an enemy until their stamina gave out. It was a menacing ability made all the more terrifying by the sheer number of souls Yamamoto had damned.

Just feet away from the burning Shinigami, a particularly sturdy pillar of bones erupted from the ground, stopping Yhwach's flight. The old man glared up at him, "And here I thought you cared for your subordinates. Look closely at whose bones you've just trampled."

". . . Zeidritz?" Yhwach recoiled at the sight of what was once one of his most loyal retainers. Zeidritz had been against going to war with the Balancers from the beginning, yet he still gave his all under Yhwach's command. So this was his fate . . . and Hubert, and Argola . . . This damned Shinigami was using his subordinate's souls as fodder! "Where are you going, Yamamoto?!" He howled past the bodies piling up around him. They had managed to hold his legs, but that was well beneath his concern at the moment.

"Don't raise your voice at me, boy." The old man walked casually, widening the distance between them again. "I'm giving you room to destroy your subordinates, so hurry up and come. Death awaits."

Yhwach's wails rose well above the rattling crackle of countless burned bones. He cut his way through the things that used to be his soldiers. They weren't anymore. They were nothing but the dregs of a despicable hellfire. He told himself that, but it didn't stop his chest from growing tighter and tighter.

"You have every right to cry, Yhwach. To know that you cannot reach me without stomping your beloved subordinates to ash must be incredibly painful. Your hatred for me grows with each familiar form you cut down until you can barely stand it. But this is nothing compared to the pain you have inflicted, the hatred you have inspired, the loss of countless souls who will never again experience life in any form because of your zealotry!" The unbearable heat suddenly became even more intense as Yamamoto furrowed his brow. His eyes were like smoldering stars, his voice deadly solar wind. "Zanka no Tachi North Form: _Tenchi Kaijin_!"

Yamamoto swung his sword.

The ground melted and glowed white hot. The air caught fire. In the split second before absolute death reached him, Yhwach's body lost all moisture and his skin began to blister. He felt the heat in his bones, scalding them down to the marrow.

A thousand years ago, the gap between himself and this Balancer was vast. But to think that it was _this _boundless. He never stood a chance. With only his own power, Yhwach could never have defeated Yamamoto Shigekuni.

He cursed his weakness as darkness enveloped him.

\+ Shift +

Yamamoto breathed through clenched teeth. _Tenchi Kaijin_ was one of his simpler techniques, but also one of the most draining. His aching arms and legs reminded him of his age, and at the worst time. His fire was beginning to grow too powerful. At this rate, all of Soul Society would be in grave danger. But he couldn't deactivate Zanka no Tachi yet. Not until Yhwach was ash.

That last attack should have obliterated him, but something remained. Something that made Yamamoto's entire body tense up.

A pitch black blob undulated on the melted ground where Yhwach should have landed. It appeared untouched by the heat of the attack. It barely appeared to be touched by anything, actually. It's surface was such a deep black that it was difficult to focus on it, and it somehow seemed to be sitting on the ground without actually touching it; as if it were sharing the same space as the ground.

The blob didn't leave any impressions on Yamamoto's spiritual senses either. It did not give off any sort of spiritual pressure, nor did it carry the distinct absence of pressure that marked a Quincy's presence. It was an anomaly, and that was reason enough to keep his guard up.

Whatever this thing was, it was a threat, so Yamamoto raised his sword. The attack carved the molten rock around the blob, but didn't seem to faze the thing at all. His attacks did nothing and the blob was seemingly inert. It was a stalemate. That posed a problem.

As long as that blob existed, Yamamoto could not safely deactivate his Bankai, but the longer he left his Bankai active, the closer to total destruction the Seireitei came. There was no room for hesitation. Preparing himself for anything, Yamamoto approached the blob.

It stirred. The motion was barely perceptible at first, but the closer he got to it, the more its undulation intensified. Its surface began to warp and bulge without a sound, making for an unsettling sight. Yamamoto stopped when the blob curled in on itself and grew upward, like a bulb on a stalk. He felt a presence now. Yhwach's was definitely there, but it was dwarfed by something else.

The bulb unfurled, stretching five finger-like limbs towards the sky. Something was about to happen.

A vast pool of darkness rushed out from the base of the black stalk, enveloping the entire area, concealing the melting ground and leaving Yamamoto ankle deep in that mysterious power. He didn't take his eyes off the stalk, however. Yhwach's power was growing. He was coming.

When he finally emerged, the change was apparent. His wounds were all but healed and there was a deep black cowl draped over his head. His arms were stiffly held out in front of him, his hands and fingers curled into splayed claws. He showed no expression, almost as if he were asleep.

"What have you done, Yhwach? What is this?" Yamamoto called out to his enemy, not that his answer mattered. The creeping sense of familiarity did nothing to soften his resolve. This thing must not be allowed to move.

The black disc covering the ground started to release a sickly yellow glow from newly formed jagged dots. The darkness receded quickly, pulling back into the stalk. The dots traveled up the stock and onto Yhwach's cowl, suddenly looking like monstrous eyes. The finger-like limbs collapsed, splashing around Yhwach's legs, and growing up around him like black flames.

He spoke in flat tones, "I had no choice, it seems. Congratulations, Yamamoto Shigekuni, you have thrown our plans into total disarray. I hope you are happy."

Yamamoto swung his sword. This new power changed nothing. The Quincies had to be destroyed for good. His fire met Yhwach's darkness and exploded, leaving the Quincy with a badly damaged arm. But nothing more.

"Impudent brat!" he swung his sword twice more. The collateral would be worse if he pushed like this, but so be it. A black blade interrupted the third stroke, crashing against Yamamoto's defenses and straining them. His eyes shot wide open.

He was struggling to hold that enormous sword at bay. The change was shocking. His power hadn't lessened in the slightest. Yhwach was simply more powerful, that inky blackness granting him an incredible boost. Yamamoto pushed harder. If the surface of the sun was not hot enough to burn away the Quincy king, then perhaps a star's core would be sufficient.

The air around them glowed and Yhwach faltered, taking a step back. It was working. Just a little more and Zanka no Tachi would burn through the darkness and end this conflict once and for all. Yamamoto ignored a pair of black tendrils shooting out from Yhwach's cowl. His heat was already impenetrable, so there was no need to fret over a counterattack. Except, they kept coming. Again and again the tendrils slammed into an invisible wall of blazing energy, and with each attempt, they pushed further in.

"Bastard!" More heat. More fire. Enough to burn away every trace of the Quincy. Zanka no Tachi's flame flowed through him. It was his body, his blood plasma. Each breath was a blast of solar wind. His eyes shone with the fiery intensity of his power. A tower in the distance began to droop. It did not break, it merely warped, the stone melted and crushed under its own weight.

The Seireitei was melting. He could feel it now. His heat was spreading out over the battlefield. At this rate, it would spread to the rest of Soul Society.

If he continued to exert himself, he could defeat the Quincy king no matter what mysterious power he had acquired. But if he did continue . . . Yhwach would die, and the entire Central Branch of Soul Society would die with him.

Yamamoto fixed his simmering gaze on the back of his sword. He recalled the moment Ryūjin Jakka manifested; the sensation of his very being blooming into this extension of his soul. His oldest companion.

With a somber breath, he deactivated his Bankai. The blazing flames winked out and allowed the surrounding area to start cooling. The black tendrils, no longer impeded by Zanka no Tachi's heat, stabbed into his body, burying themselves in his thigh and shoulder. His grip on the hilt of his sword weakened, but he did not let it fall from his grasp. He would be whole in the end.

"Farewell, Yamamoto Shigekuni." Yhwach swung his blade. Its edge passed through Yamamoto's body with ease.

Pain and feeling were the first to go. Numbness accompanied the stopping of his heart. Vision faded into darkness.

The Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 let out one last breath.

\+ Shift +

The sound of the old man's body hitting the ground was distant, just as the searing heat and pain of being burned had been. Yhwach breathed deep, or he supposed he did. It was difficult to tell if the things his body was doing were the result of his own intent or not. Such was the nature of this power.

Concern for his plans was distant as well. Nothing seemed truly important in the face of such an overwhelming threat as Yamamoto Shigekuni, but then, now that that threat was gone . . . did anything have meaning? His goal was accomplished, wasn't it? He could surrender himself to this power now, and . . .

Yhwach desperately reached out to his body, seizing control back from the blackness. It was a struggle. There was no will to the thing he had allowed into his soul, but that in itself was dangerous. If he was not careful, if he did not force this power into submission with his will, it would consume him. He couldn't allow that to happen. Not yet.

His legs began to shake. That, he was sure, was not the doing of that black power. He had control again. He fixed his gaze on the corpse of his greatest foe and held it there. He had to be sure. Sure that what he was seeing was real. That he had indeed emerged victorious. Relief buckled his knees and he collapsed.

So long he lived under the shadow of defeat at that man's hands. So long he lived with the fear that the same flames that chased him away a thousand years ago would halt his progress again. So much weight lifted-the souls of his comrades not least of all-it almost brought him to tears. But the king of the Quincies couldn't afford to show such emotion, so Yhwach smothered the fluttering in his chest with renewed resolve. This conflict was so much larger than a single fight, no matter how important. The world was still within the clutches of the Balancers, no, the Shinigami, and he would not stop until everyone was free.

Yhwach managed to push himself to one knee, but the other was proving rather difficult. He would have a hard time saving the world if he couldn't even stand up. He almost managed it before a panicked shout sent him slipping back down.

"Your Majesty! Thank goodness!" Jugo rushed across the glassy surface that was once a stone paved road, dragging his foot. The wounds from the fight with the supposed Kenpachi were still evident, but he was looking considerably better than he did when Yamamoto arrived. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I ended up getting in the way, and-" His voice caught as he kneeled down. There were tears streaming down his face.

Yhwach placed a hand on his friend's trembling shoulder, "Whatever you have to apologize for can wait, Jugo. I am relieved that you are alive. I was worried that Yamamoto's flames might have burned you up."

"They almost did," Jugo grimaced, "I was forced to retrieve a great deal of power to withstand it. I am sorry."

That certainly was something to be sorry for. Jugram Haschwalth was one of the most powerful Quincies that had ever lived. The breadth of his power combined with his ability to share what he had allowed him to strengthen the whole of the Quincy army. That he had to pull a large portion of that lent power back meant that a considerable chunk of their fighting force would be crippled.

"That is regrettable, but the fact that you still live means that our forces are not completely lost. You made the right choice, Jugo." He lowered his head, but Yhwach could tell Jugo was taking his words to heart. "I, on the other hand, may have made a blunder that could make all of this struggle amount to nothing. I was pushed into a corner and about to die, though that does not excuse my actions. Jugo, I was forced to activate _Kamikake_."

Jugo's eyes shot open in horror, "But, Your Majesty, it is far too early! We aren't ready!"

"I know that." Yhwach snapped. His nerves were beginning to fray. "It _is_ too early, but all is not lost. I can feel it eating away at me, however it won't be able to consume me entirely for some time yet." How much time was a terrifying uncertainty, but he couldn't have his right hand falling apart on him now. "I want you to order a full retreat, Jugo. We need to recuperate."

"But that's . . . As you command, Your Majesty." Jugo stood and drew his sword. Pointing the tip straight up, he discharged a ball of Reishi that exploded into a brilliant star high enough to be visible all across the Seireitei.

"Good. Now help me up. We need to fall back as well." Yhwach put his weight on Jugo's shoulder, and the pair limped away.

This invasion was not a total failure. It was a given that the best laid plans could go awry, so it was all up to how much they could salvage. In Yhwach's estimation, the Quincies came out in a much better position than the Shinigami. The loss of so many Sternritter was a problem, but a small one compared to the two Shinigami Captains, the Captain-Commander among them. In addition, the entire Shinigami forces were in play while the Quincies were only able to deploy a portion of their forces, and that meant they had more in reserve. The Shinigami had brought their greatest fighters against them, but the strongest Sternritter had not yet taken the field!

Yhwach couldn't help but grin.

\+ Break +

Shunsui stared down, not really seeing the dead Quincy at his feet. In truth, he wasn't really seeing anything. Everything was blurry. A burning sensation in his chest reminded him to breathe.

He wanted to cry out. He wanted to run off and do _something_. Every fiber of his being told him that nothing would get done if he just stood there, but he couldn't move. His feet were rooted, and it was entirely likely that taking a step would send him crashing down to the ground. He wasn't injured, no. A few scratches and bumps were hardly worth noting, and one crushed eye wasn't crippling.

Physically, he was right as rain. Robert Accutrone had started out as a fairly formidable opponent, but as the fight progressed, he seemed to become more and more vulnerable to Shunsui's attacks. No way an enemy like that could give him much trouble. He was fine, physically.

His mind was a different matter, though.

The air felt cold now that the deadly heat of Old Yama's Bankai had vanished. Too cold. It chilled Shunsui to his bones. The old man was dead. It didn't feel real, but there was no mistaking that feeling, like a vacuum sucking all of the heat from the world.

How many times did he get a taste of that heat when he was younger? Seemed every day he did something to piss the old man off. Thinking back on it, though, he never really looked that upset. His discipline was never doled out in anger. It was always fair. You got what you asked for. That was the kind of teacher Old Yama was. Everything Shunsui knew was based off of the lessons the old man taught him. In some ways, he was more a father than Shunsui's actual father.

There was so much left to say and do. So many debts to repay.

A wet feeling between his toes drew Shunsui's attention. There was blood soaking into his sandals. But from where? A dark red drop falling from his chin answered. His crushed eye was bleeding pretty badly all of a sudden. Big problem or no, he needed to get it checked out. A quick visit to the 4th Division barracks wouldn't hurt. Nanao should still be there. She was probably worried about him, though she'd never admit it. She was cute like that.

Shunsui lifted his head, "No time to mourn just yet, huh?" He dismissed his Zanpakuto and, with a deep breath, pounded the shakiness out of his legs.

The fighting was dying down all over the Seireitei. The more powerful enemies were pulling back and the bulk of both forces were disengaging. At least they'd get a chance to catch their breath.

It would be nice if he could find time for a drink too. He really needed one.


	11. Chapter 11

Shunsui sighed deeply standing outside the 1st Division's main audience chamber. He could hear the shouting as he approached, and it wasn't letting up. The remaining Captains were eating each other alive. The last thing they needed right now was infighting.

He knew this would happen. With Old Yama gone, there was nobody around who could keep the volatile tempers and egos of the Gotei Captains in check. Eventually, he would have to stop stalling, join his peers, and put in his two cents. Frankly, though, he'd rather gouge out his other eye. He fussed with the patch over his empty socket, ignoring both the shouting on the other side of the wall and the air of uncertainty that permeated everything on this side.

Fingering a folded piece of paper, Shunsui sighed again. He knew for certain he'd be doing that more and more from now on. No doubt Nanao-chan would give him grief about it too. That wasn't so bad, actually. The thought of his adorable Lieutenant worrying over him brought a smile to his face, but one look at the paper in his hand sent the edges of his mouth crashing down.

The seal of the Central 46 was the only mark on the page. It was a summons, of course. His promotion was a sure thing-they hadn't exactly been coy about their intentions-and it made him grind his teeth, regardless of whether or not they were abiding by Old Yama's wishes. All that remained was hashing out the details.

How long could he get away with putting the summons off? It wasn't like they were going to get out of their chairs and drag him back themselves. With luck, this whole Quincy business could be resolved before he had to go anywhere near the Central 46's compound. That said, it wasn't like Nanao-chan would just sit back and let Shunsui have his way like that. If she pressed him, he wouldn't be able to resist.

The shouting coming from the audience chamber had been so persistent that when it finally stopped, it grabbed Shunsui's attention like a loud bang. He hesitated, despite being given the chance to enter unaccosted. Experience told him that even though the noise had died down, the atmosphere would still be smoldering. He'd need to tread lightly. Quickly tucking the summons into the folds of his kimono, he let out one last sigh and entered the chamber.

The air was thick with biting words and curses left unsaid, making for one of the most uncomfortable entrances Shunsui had ever made. Seven Captains other than himself stood motionless in the center of the room. Seven of the ten remaining Captains. There was a somber thought. The hurt was evident on each of their faces, though some more than others.

Soi Fon in particular looked utterly drained despite her voice being one of the loudest and most persistent Shunsui had heard. Komamura and Muguruma were flustered as well. They had been just as vocal as Soi Fon and their frustration was clearly apparent. And the guilt they felt from being so frustrated showed just as clearly.

Hitsugaya was the worst off physically. Every Captain had taken a beating whether they won or lost their respective fights, but Hitsugaya was hit harder than most. His Lieutenant was still unconscious, from what Shunsui heard.

Emotionally speaking, it was hard to imagine anyone more haggard than Ōtoribashi. The man's eyes were sunken and he somehow looked even more gaunt than usual. No other Captain had lost as much of their Division as he did, poor guy. Still, his Reiatsu raged, so he wasn't down for the count just yet.

In stark contrast, Captain Hirako looked bored, though that was likely just his face. He had never been easy to read, but his lips drew a thin line and there were dark bags under his eyes. Had he not slept yet? That would certainly explain why his voice wasn't mixed in with all of the outrage before.

That left Jūshirō. Shunsui's oldest friend was guilt personified. Not all that shocking considering his absence during the fighting, but still perplexing. The 13th Division had the fewest casualties behind the 4th and 12th, so perhaps it was a sort of survivor's guilt.

Nobody looked up when he entered, or even acknowledged his presence. That was no good. "Alright, alright! Everybody calm down!" Shunsui clapped his hands and said in a loud voice. He needed to fill all of this dead air. Making a point to fix each of them with a scolding glance he said, "If Old Yama were here, you can bet he'd be giving all of you a real tongue lashing. Honestly, losing your cool like this."

All but Jūshirō raised their faces then, and each one gave him a deriding glare that would send anyone but a fellow Captain running for the hills. Shunsui shrugged it off, of course. He was hoping for that reaction exactly. A little teasing certainly went a long way.

Soi Fon snarled and took a threatening step forward, "Kyōraku! You-"

"Is this what we should be doing right now?" Shunsui cut her off, the seriousness of his tone a razor sharp blade. Expressions all around softened, mostly out of surprise. "What good does biting each other's heads off do? It almost seems like you've forgotten that the enemy is still out there. As Shinigami of the Gotei 13, what is our duty? What should be our first response to such a threat?"

Nobody tried to answer his questions. That was good. It would have ruined the effect if they had. They stayed quiet and listened, like scolded children. Was this how Old Yama felt when he lectured the Captains?

"That's right," Shunsui continued, "We should not be pitying ourselves, nor should we be champing at the bit, eager to make our enemies pay for their transgressions. Our responsibility as Shinigami, first and foremost, is to protect the Soul Society." Shunsui paused, folding his hands in front of him. He wanted to let others absorb his words and understand. "Fatalistic as it might be, what's done is done. The dead are dead. Keep your eyes forward and walk with your head raised. You are Captains of the Gotei 13, aren't you?"

The question floated in the air for a moment before quiet fell over the room again. Nobody moved or spoke. They just stood there, wide eyed, if not outright shocked. Shunsui smothered the urge to shift in place. Their eyes were like curious wasps trying to determine whether to sting or not.

Much to Shunsui's relief, someone finally opened their mouth. "This is pretty out of character for you, Kyōraku." Captain Hirako said, tilting his head. "You almost sounded like you're in charge here. What gives?"

"Did I?" Shunsui laughed, the tension melting away. "That's good to hear, seeing as I'm the next Captain-Commander."

Not a jaw was left undropped. Even Jūshirō stared in disbelief, which hurt a little. But that initial shock didn't last long. Once more irritation and frustration filled the voices of the Captains as they all started demanding answers from him at once. Shunsui raised his hands to defend against the onslaught. There wasn't much else he could do to keep from being smothered.

"Now hold on a second. I can barely breathe here." Once they realized he was just one guy, and as such could only answer one question at a time, they calmed down. Just a little.

Hirako stepped forward, seemingly taking on the role of representative for the group. "Alright, Kyōraku, care to explain what you just said? We're still reeling from Captain-Commander Yamamoto's passing, so now is not the time for tasteless jokes."

"It's no joke, I assure you. This decision comes from the top." He flashed the summons with the Central 46 insignia, "'In times like these, it's important for Soul Society to have proper leadership,' or something to that effect."

Hirako clicked his tongue, "So they're afraid we'll lose our nerve if we don't have someone giving us directions? That lot never changes, no matter who sits in those seats."

"Can't say I disagree, but it wasn't their decision alone." Shunsui tucked the summons back into his kimono and fiddled with his eye patch. He wasn't exactly thrilled to bring this up, but if he didn't solidify his claim to the position, the other Captains would subvert his authority at every turn. "Turns out, Old Yama left a will of sorts. He left a recommendation . . . well, it reads as more of an order if you ask me, but that's beside the point. Either way, they heeded the intent of those final words, so I'm your new boss. Does that answer your questions well enough?"

Not one of them looked satisfied, but no objections were raised. Hirako spoke for all of them, "Whatever. Just don't drop the ball, _Captain-Commander_." Saying so, he stalked out of the room. The rest followed in their own time, fixing Shunsui with all matter of concerned and frustrated glances as they left. Before long, only Jūshirō remained.

His eyes were fixed to the floor again. The silence stretched on, but Shunsui wasn't going to be the one to break it. Something was eating at his best friend, and pressing him about it would only aggravate him. That being said, if he didn't bring it up, Shunsui wouldn't have a choice.

Finally, Jūshirō looked up and noticed, seemingly for the first time, that it was just the two of them in the room. He hesitated a bit before trying to smooth his features, but the distinct mask of guilt was still visible. "Ah . . . I suppose I should be saying congratulations. The promotion is well deserved." He flashed a smile, but he looked as sick as he'd ever been.

"You're not trying to butter me up, I hope. I plan on treating everyone equally."

"Of course." The more Jūshirō tried to feign pep, the more he betrayed his actual feelings. Something was very wrong. He was hiding something. "Well then . . . I suppose I shouldn't be standing around chatting when everyone else is working hard. I'd better get going." He tilted his head in a shallow bow and tried to slip through the door. Shunsui braced himself. This job was already giving him a headache.

"What's going on, Jūshirō? There's something you're not telling me, and I get the feeling I need to know what it is."

Jūshirō stopped and stiffened. His hands shook. His shoulders shook. The man's whole body trembled at the accusatory question. "I don't know what you're talking about. Everything is fine. I'm fine."

"Where were you during the invasion, Jūshirō?" It felt like he was twisting a knife as he plunged it into his friend's side, but the Seireitei needed those answers no matter the cost. "I don't know what orders Old Yama gave you, but the fact stands that you were the only Captain who was absent."

"Are you saying that I ran and hid away while everyone was fighting?!" He raised his voice and turned to shoot an angry glare Shunsui's way, but no matter how many layers he built into his facade, the weight of his guilt brought it all down. Jūshirō wasn't a coward, that much was certain, but he was harboring some intense regret, and Shunsui knew it could sway the direction of this conflict.

Shunsui tried to keep the pity out of his voice, but it was hard, "You know I wouldn't be digging like this if I didn't think it was important, Jūshirō. I'm not ordering you to answer as Captain-Commander, I'm asking you for an explanation as your friend. Please, help me so I can protect everything the old man left for us."

Jūshirō met his pleading stare. He took a step forward, opening his mouth to speak, but instead of words, he let out a hacking cough. In an instant he was doubled over, clutching his chest and desperately covering his mouth. Shunsui moved to support him, but he raised a hand, stopping him from offering any assistance. After a few painful moments, the coughing subsided, and Jūshirō straightened himself, "I understand where you're coming from, but there are some things that simply can't be said. I can only offer you this: I'm not withholding information because I fear it may come back to cause me grief should I speak. I made an oath to hold this secret from anyone who might get close. I am sorry, Shunsui, but this oath supersedes even our friendship. I hope you can understand."

He turned and left with every ounce of dignity he could salvage, but his violent coughing echoed down the hall and back into the audience chamber, bouncing off the walls.

So that was it then. There wasn't much Shunsui could do against that sort of determination. Oh, he could hammer at that wall until it caved in, but it would cost him his oldest friend and, in all likelihood, the respect of the rest of the Gotei 13. That wasn't an option, much to his relief. If he wanted to know Jūshirō's secret, he'd need to wait for a desperate time where the fate of Soul Society as a whole was in imminent peril. That, or find a way to press the issue where a falling out wouldn't impact his reputation or authority.

Responsibility was a messy business, he decided, sighing.

He'd have to get used to that.

\+ Break +

Ichigo grunted when he hit the floor. For a moment he laid there, tangled in sweat-drenched sheets and breathing heavily. He didn't recognize the ceiling looming over him, and it definitely wasn't his bed that he fell out of. He pulled himself up, using the squeaky old bed frame for support, and kicked the sheets away. That was one hell of a nightmare.

_He was walking. The river was calm, reflecting the orange glow of the setting sun. He wasn't alone. His mother was there, walking alongside him. She held his hand. They were returning home from . . . somewhere. That was odd. He had the feeling that he should be leaving someplace if he was returning, but it didn't matter, really. They may as well have been walking along the riverbank forever._

_She said something, and he laughed. He hadn't heard her, but it tickled him anyway. He couldn't hear himself laugh either. He smiled up at her, and she smiled back, filling him with a warmth that felt just like the light shining off the water's surface below. When they finally made it home, she'd cook dinner while he played with Karin and Yuzu. _

_His friends were there, standing in the path ahead. Inoue and Chad, Rukia and Renji, and even Ishida. They waved, calling him over. He tugged at his mother's hand, hurrying her along, and she smiled patiently and let him lead her. He was so excited. He was going to introduce her to his friends. He was sure they'd get along great._

_But as they got close, his friends stopped waving. Rukia and Renji drew their swords and bared their teeth. Chad joined them, raising his fists. Ishida turned and walked away without a word. Inoue stepped in front of all of them, her face a mask of worry. She was shouting, but her voice never made it to his ears. She reached out to him, pleading silently._

_His grip tightened on his mother's hand. He looked up at her for reassurance, and sure enough, she smiled down at him, albeit with a tinge of worry. It should have been a relief to see that expression, but it wasn't. If anything, he felt even more concerned. He was breathing heavily, and the loud pounding of his heart was the only sound he could hear. He started to panic._

_He looked back at his friends to find eerie blue/white arrows sticking out of them. They were bloodied, dark red spots staining their clothes and spreading quickly. Chad, Rukia, and Renji were on their knees, their wounds severe. Ishida was nowhere to be seen. Inoue stood, arrows sticking out of her chest and legs, her hand still outstretched. Her silent shouts seemed even more desperate. Panic became cold fear. Quick, shallow breaths made his chest burn. He slowly turned back to his mother. She could make things right, but for some reason, he hesitated. What was he going to see when he looked at her._

_The world started spinning when he saw the man next to him, holding his hand. With greasy hair and a thin lipped smile, he looked like a snake. Where was his mother? What had he done to her? Slitted eyes shone from beneath dark glasses. When they moved, fixating on Ichigo, he screamed, pulling his hand away. The undulating ground reached up to swallow his legs, and he hit the ground._

That wasn't the first time he'd had that dream, Ichigo realized. How many times had he woken up in this room, drenched in sweat? And this room . . . how long had he been here exactly? The closer he looked, the more familiar it became. The impression of a sterile hospital room faded as he noticed a whirring air conditioning unit, a futon and tatami mats stacked in the corner, and dilapidated wooden shelves lining one wall. It looked more like a storage room was peeled back to make space for the rickety bed on which he sat.

"Umm," a meek voice suddenly said from behind him. Ichigo's shoulders jumped despite himself and he jerked around to find a familiar face peeking at him from an open door. "I brought you some food, but since you're awake, you can come eat in the sitting room." Ururu spun around and left as abruptly as she appeared. A savory scent trailing behind her made Ichigo's stomach growl.

"This must be Urahara Shop, then." He wasn't sure if that was comforting or not. On one hand, Urahara Kisuke was shady as hell on a good day. Waking up in his vicinity when the details were fuzzy set off so many alarms. Then again, he was exactly who Ichigo wanted to see about the weird number of Hollow appearances before that Quincy bastard showed up. He practically leapt to his feet, then. How could he have forgotten about that? "Inoue, and Chad . . . are they alright?!" Ignoring the shakiness in his legs, Ichigo rushed out of the room after Ururu. Wherever she was heading might also be where he could find Kisuke.

The tight hallway immediately gave way to the Urahara Shop he was familiar with, dated decor and all. He didn't even have to follow the smell of the food to find his way. Slamming open the sliding door, he stepped into a family room straight out of the Showa era. Ururu already knelt comfortably on a pillow, peeling mikan over a short, round table in the middle of the room. Jinta sat across from her, scribbling frustratedly at what looked like a sheet of math problems. Tessai stood in the kitchen off to the side, hands blurring, producing something that smelled amazing.

Kisuke was sprawled out on the floor absently munching on the food Ururu had before, and watching a television that looked extremely out of place. He rolled over lazily when Ichigo entered. "Oh, you're awake. Good, good. A few more days and I would have started to worry," he said, peering up from under the brim of his hat. He was always like that. Making light of things to get a rise out of people. "Come, come. Sit and eat. You've been tossing and turning for days, so you must be starving."

That was true, at least. Ichigo's stomach rumbled softly and he eyed Tessai's back. He could eat anything at this point, especially if . . . Wait.

"What do you mean days?!" Ichigo's hands started to shake. He wanted to run over and haul Kisuke to his feet, but his legs wouldn't move. "What happened, Kisuke? How can I have slept for days? Where are Inoue and Chad? Are they alright?!" He should have taken a deep breath and thought through things, approached the situation with a level head, but the last thing he remembered was his friends being threatened by some white-clad psycho. How could he be calm? " Answer me, Kisuke!"

"Whoa, now. Take it easy, Ichigo. You won't do anyone any good blowing a gasket here." Kisuke stood on his own. He gestured to the table as if to say, "Sit down and I'll explain." Ichigo wanted to strangle him. It was obvious he was hiding something. Why couldn't he just come out and say whatever he had to say? "Chad and Orihime are fine, so please," he sauntered over and placed a hand on Ichigo's shoulder," _sit_."

Ichigo's knees buckled. He was suddenly aware of much more than a tinge of hunger. His entire body ached; joints creaked and a splitting pain throbbed in the back of his head. It took a great deal of effort not to collapse on the spot. Surprisingly, Kisuke lent him a shoulder and guided him to a pillow at the table.

In moments he was hunched over a steaming bowl with a blanket draped over his shoulders. "There we go. Doesn't that feel better?" Kisuke said, taking the remaining seat across from him, "Now then, if you are settled, I think we have some things to discuss."

The aches all over his body subsiding, Ichigo took a deep breath. The smell of the food warmed him and the cushion he was sitting on was really comfortable. "Settled" was a mild way to put it. He was downright relaxed. At least, as much as he could be.

Now wasn't the time to kick back and take a breather though. "You said that Inoue and Chad were alright. Where are they right now?" Ichigo fixed Kisuke with a discerning glare. He'd known the mysterious shopkeeper for a while now, so he figured he could spot a lie or half-truth if he looked carefully.

To Kisuke's credit, he took his hat off, giving Ichigo a clear view of his face for once. "Your friends are recovering. Chad got the least of it, I'd say, though his leg was pretty badly hurt. He should be back on his feet fairly soon. It's too bad we can't have Orihime fix his leg up, but it is what it is."

That was good to hear. Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief, and immediately wished he hadn't. "What do you mean you can't have Inoue heal him?"

The shopkeeper's face was grim, "She hasn't regained consciousness yet."

"She hasn't-Then why are you all just sitting here?! Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on her, or treating her, or _something_?" Ichigo slammed his palms on the table. He tried to push himself up, but strength hadn't quite returned to his limbs.

"You know, you're going to have to get over this whole 'hot-headed hero' thing eventually, right? You can't solve every problem by throwing yourself at it blindly." Ichigo blinked. Urahara Kisuke, of all people, was lecturing him. Scolding him, even. It defied reason. "We weren't there, but I'm sure you can imagine that we've had our hands full taking care of the three of you. Chad wasn't so bad, but you and Orihime stretched us thin. With so much of our attention focused on making sure your spirit didn't collapse under its own weight, we weren't able to spare much time for her."

"You bastard," Ichigo growled, "Are you saying you've been ignoring her to make sure I was okay? What is wrong with you?!"

Rolling his eyes, Kisuke sighed, "Jeez, let me finish, will you? _We_ couldn't spare any time, so we called in some help. I'm sure you're familiar with one Dr. Kurosaki Isshin."

"You brought my dad here to treat her?" He wanted to be upset. He _was_ upset! How dare Kisuke get his family involved!

But then, if he hadn't, Inoue would have been neglected. Isshin might be a goof sometimes, but he was, in fact, a doctor. In the absence of some mystical soul healing techniques, maybe he was the next best thing.

"So my dad is taking care of Inoue . . . I still can't say that I'm happy about this whole thing, but thank you for at least thinking about her well being." Ichigo bowed his head. He was still upset, but he wasn't about to skip out on showing gratitude where it was deserved. "And thank you for the food. I'm going to go see how she's doing, and Chad too, if you don't mind." He pushed himself up, feeling much more stable after calming down, but Kisuke raised a hand to stop him.

"I'd love to let you check in on your friends, but you have some more pressing business to attend to."

"Whatever it is, it can wait. My friends got dragged into a dangerous fight because I couldn't handle it on my own. I want to at least confirm that they're alright with my own eyes."

"There you go again," said Kisuke, shaking his head, "taking responsibility for other people's decisions like some kind of paragon. Sorry but this can't wait. I already agreed to send you over once you woke up."

Ichigo met Kisuke's stare with one of his own, suppressing a shiver. That look was the same with or without the hat. He was hiding something important, and it was already too late to do anything about it. "Send me where?" He asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

There was a suffocating pause. For once, Kisuke looked unsure, as if he said more than he intended. Placing his hat back on his head, he spoke in a low voice, "The person you fought by the river . . . he was a Quincy, right?" There were so many implications in that question it made the air in the room feel heavy. Ichigo held his breath. "As it turns out, he wasn't alone. The Seireitei has been invaded. The folks over in research and development want to talk to you about it."

An invasion? What did that mean exactly? Why was he being so damn vague?! "I don't see how that has anything to do with me." It hurt to say so, but with such little information being concealed by bare-bones explanations, he needed to tease something out. Something he could use to get a clearer picture of what was going on. Anything.

"People have died, Ichigo. Important people. And do you know what happens when a Quincy kills someone? They're gone for good. Body and soul. I don't think I can properly express how serious this is," so he said, but he was doing an adequate job of adding weight to his words. "As for what any of this has to do with you . . . I don't know." That was a lie. Urahara Kisuke was not a man to let information of any sort elude him. He was dangling answers like bait on a hook, and even though Ichigo knew all too well what the shopkeeper was up to, he was ready to bite.

"Alright," he said, giving in to Kisuke's flow, "I'll go. But there's something I need you to tell me before I do. You said important people died. Who?"

The silence that followed was agonizing. Sweat dampened Ichigo's collar while Kisuke weighed his options. The shopkeeper raised his hand, "There are two casualties of note for you. First, Captain-Commander Yamamoto was defeated." Right off the bat, a huge shock. Ichigo wasn't too familiar with the old man, but he knew the Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 was immensely powerful. He shivered, as much from a sudden sense of fear as from the surprise. "The second is Captain Kuchiki Byakuya."

Heat vanished from Ichigo's body in a dreadful wave. Byakuya was dead? How? It didn't seem possible. They hardly ever saw eye to eye, but he had a begrudging respect for the guy. Numbness crept up his arms from his fingertips. "What about Renji and Rukia?" His voice came out a croak. Those two cared more for Byakuya than anyone else. If something happened to them too . . .

"They could be completely unharmed or at death's door, but for the time being at least, they're alive."

He couldn't feel relieved, as good as that news was. Ichigo wanted to laugh at himself. His friends may or may not be dying and he called that good news? What was happening?

Things had really settled down. No new enemies had appeared and nobody was being put in harm's way. Life was normal for what felt like the first time since he met Rukia. And now everything was falling apart all at once. _Good news? What a terrible joke._

"Well? Having second thoughts?" Kisuke asked, watching him from under the brim of his hat.

There was really only one answer to give. "No. I'm going." Ichigo clenched his fists till his palms hurt. He knew that Inoue and Chad were in good hands, but it still felt like he was abandoning them. He was needed elsewhere. That was a fact. If he hesitated, somebody else might die. "They wanted me as soon as possible, right? Lead the way."

"Oh, we won't need to go anywhere special." Kisuke clapped his hands and the room became a blur of motion. Jinta flipped the table with a cathartic grin while Ururu pushed the television into a hidden compartment in the wall. Tessai pushed down on the counter separating the kitchen from the rest of the room and it disappeared into the floor. A lamp dangling overhead retracted into the ceiling on its own. In the blink of an eye the room was empty, making it look much larger. "I've made some improvements to my Senkaimon. Feel free to praise me!" Tessai, Ururu, and Jinta raised their hands in the center of the room and the space behind Kisuke began to warp and ripple.

The gate that appeared resembled the Senkaimon that the Shinigami used at first, but it quickly shifted to a shape that looked very much like the Arrancar's Garganta. "This baby'll take you straight to the 12th Division's doorstep. It's cool right? Few restrictions and negligible power draw; I'm very proud of it." Kisuke laughed, patting his own back.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and ignored the self-satisfied shopkeeper. As long as the gate functioned as advertised, he couldn't care less about how much power it took or whatever. "Thanks for your help, Kisuke. Take care of my friends." He said, stepping walking towards the glowing circle.

As he passed through, Kisuke's voice reached his ears, "Tread lightly, Ichigo."

Ichigo had only a moment to consider what that was supposed to mean before the light enveloped him, ferrying him from the world of the living.


	12. Chapter 12

The light filling Ichigo's vision faded just as quickly as it enveloped him, like an unexpected camera flash. The experience was certainly just as jarring. No Dangai, no fixed arrival point, no travel time period. One second he stood somewhere within Urahara Shop, the next he was being buffeted on all sides by Shinigami frantically going about their duties. Forget the doorstep, that weird gate put him right in the middle of the barracks!

Or so he thought. He'd never given the barracks of the Gotei Divisions themselves much thought, so for all he knew, this could be the inside of any random building within the Seireitei. And considering the gate he traveled through was created by Urahara Kisuke, there was a very real possibility that it hadn't been properly tested before this trip . . . which would make Ichigo the guinea pig.

Swallowing his indignation, Ichigo swore to give Kisuke a piece of his mind when he next saw him. Until then, there were more important matters to take care of. Namely, finding out what the 12th Division wanted with him. Stepping out into the torrent of busy researchers, he tried to stop someone and get some answers. But nobody slowed. Most seemed to flat out ignore him, opting to step past him like he was an inconveniently erected pillar. That would have been bad enough, but those that actually acknowledged his existence did so with severe, venomous glares. In short, he wasn't getting anywhere wading through this river.

It was starting to get on his nerves.

"They called me here, so wouldn't it make sense for them to come meet me in person?" Ichigo grumbled to himself while following the flow. He had no idea where he was supposed to go, so maybe allowing himself to be pulled along would get him somewhere close. It was better than waiting for . . . "Wait, who am I even supposed to be meeting?!" Kisuke said that he was called by the 12th Division, but that could mean pretty much anybody! Looking for Captain Kurotsuchi was a safe bet, but that didn't help him if he didn't know his way around the barracks. If only Kisuke had sent him outside the barracks like he said he would!

_Damn that shifty shopkeeper! I'll give him more than a piece of my mind next time!_ Ichigo pushed through the crowd. Fortunately, as if sensing his mood, the people in his way stepped aside, clearing his path. _The first thing I need to do is get my bearings. Once I'm outside I can figure out how to get where I need to go_.

"Oh, you're here, Kurosaki Ichigo." Sliding out of the crowd with ease, one of the 12th Division's officers called out to him. It was Akon, if he remembered right. Yeah, definitely. The horns were a dead giveaway. "I've been asked to guide you. Please, follow me."

"Wait a second, Akon-san!" Ichigo called out to stop him, but the serious looking researcher was already gliding through the bustling mass like it wasn't there. No helping it then. He'd have to settle for having his questions answered at their destination. Wherever that was. Akon led him through rooms and down corridors with so many turns it was a wonder they didn't feed into each other. There were so many flights of stairs going up and down that Ichigo wasn't even sure if they were below or above ground at the end.

Their journey finally came to an end in front of a featureless metal door. "Captain," Akon said, holding a finger to his ear, "I've returned with Kurosaki Ichigo. Of course. Yes, sir." With a grating buzz the door opened into darkness. It would have been a wall of solid black if not for a faint glow in the distance lending vague definition to the hallway. "Don't keep the Captain waiting." Leaving those last words, Akon started back the way they had come.

Ichigo stood in the dark opening and let out a deep breath. No good could be done just standing around, so he marched into the darkness, eyes fixed on the soft light in the distance. The hallway was even longer than it looked, giving him plenty of time to worry. Had he spoken more than two words in passing to the 12th Division's Captain? He knew what the guy looked like-it was hard to forget someone so . . . eccentric- but aside from that, he barely had any experience to pull from.

What he did know was the things he heard from his friends. Ishida had the most experience dealing with the guy, but he never said anything about it afterwards. Inoue met him at the same time, apparently, but she had a way of seeing the best in people, so her judgment was hardly reliable. If only he'd been more curious back then.

Wishful thoughts aside, Ichigo licked his lips and clenched his fists. He didn't think of himself as the type to let his nerves and anticipation get the better of him, but the circumstances put him on edge. The quickly approaching end of the hall felt as if it were pushing on him. The closer he got, the tighter his chest felt. The harder it was to take a solid breath. His mind raced, but before he could resolve the worries swirling around inside his head, he stepped into the light.

The room was as he had come to expect from his brief tour of the 12th Division: large slabs of metal slotted together for walls and floor, whirring machines that served who-knew-what purpose, and an inexplicably high ceiling that made the whole space feel like the bottom of an empty tower. A sickly yellow light from many of the machines provided an oddly comfortable brightness, while what looked like a blank blackboard covered the majority of one wall.

Captain Kurotsuchi stood before a wide monitor. His head was obscured by a large golden headdress, but he spoke as soon as Ichigo entered, "You've arrived. Good. How are you feeling, Kurosaki Ichigo? Any unusual aches or sensations?" He kept his attention on the monitor, tapping away at a terminal all the while.

"I'm fine," Ichigo winced. He hadn't intended to sound so tense, but he didn't come here for a check-up. "Look, I get enough of that 'avoiding the issue' crap from Kisuke. Why did you call me here?"

"Yes, yes. Well said," Kurotsuchi hummed. "I am in something of a hurry myself, so I'd like you to answer my questions promptly. Are you experiencing any unusual sensations at all? Any urges that you didn't have before?"

Ichigo grit his teeth, "Are you kidding?! I have more important things to be doing than indulging you. I'm out of here."

"I trust Urahara Kisuke informed you of our clash with a Quincy army? Don't you want to know more about the people who hurt your friends?"

"You're a real bastard, you know that?" Glaring at the Captain's back, Ichigo stayed where he was. That he would have to play along with this mad scientist pissed him off almost as much as being left in the dark. "I'm listening."

Kurotsuchi turned from the monitor with a glare of his own. The white bars painted over his black face made Ichigo's chest feel tight. "Quincies," he spat, "do not exert spiritual pressure. Did you know that? Quincies must suck the Reishi from their surroundings in order to express their power. Almost like parasites feeding off the world around them. Imagine our surprise, then, when a group of people who do just the opposite appear and set the Seireitei on fire." He held up a small remote that produced a sharp beep. The door out of the room slid shut and blended seamlessly with the wall. At the same time, the large blackboard became translucent, revealing another, smaller room. Ichigo rushed over to the newly revealed window, eyes wide.

Ishida was on the other side of the glass, unconscious. He wasn't just asleep. He was being held there, locked in a tiny room behind a one-way mirror in some mad scientist's creepy laboratory.

"What the hell? Why is Ishida in there?" The room was barely large enough to house the slab that his friend was strapped to. Wires feeding into a machine crammed into the corner were attached all over his body. Ichigo turned, hands held at his sides. Were they not, he would already have Zangetsu pressed against the Captain's throat. "Let him go. Now!"

"Oh dear, you're rather upset, aren't you? And here I thought you were on our side." Kurotsuchi flashed big yellow teeth at Ichigo's confusion. His spiritual pressure was suddenly suffocating. "Ishida Uryu is a Quincy. And not just any Quincy. He is a Quincy who invaded Soul Society as part of a hostile force. He infiltrated using his comrades' attack as cover and assaulted our soldiers. What is he doing in there? He is a _prisoner of war_, of course."

Ichigo faltered. The outrage that he directed at Kurotsuchi was doused in an instant, leaving a queasy knot in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to demand an explanation, but defending his friend came first. "That doesn't make any sense. Ishida fought with us to _protect_ Soul Society."

"Did he now? Because I remember things going a little differently." He tilted his head like an owl, but somehow, it seemed like his eyes never moved. They were fixed points boring into Ichigo with nauseating intensity. "As I recall, he fought to rescue his friend from an enemy we had in common. That doesn't constitute any sort of alliance. In fact, I would say that he has been decidedly hostile towards Soul Society and Shinigami. This isn't even the first time Ishida Uryu has invaded the Seireitei."

"That wasn't an invasion!" Ichigo didn't mean to raise his voice, but a panicked shout escaped his throat. How could Ishida attack Soul Society? He was smart enough not to get involved in a crazy scheme like that. Ichigo swallowed, steadying his voice, "We were just trying to save Rukia. She's a Shinigami, and he helped rescue her, so how could he-"

"How could he attack Shinigami if he has Shinigami friends? What a stupid question! He is a _Quincy_. What other reason could he possibly need? His comrades certainly had no qualms about ending the lives of many Shinigami. They killed the elder brother of his so-called friend, as I'm sure you are aware. Do you think he tried to stop them?"

"Shut up . . ."

"Hardly. In fact, while Kuchiki Byakuya was fighting for his life, Ishida Uryu was leaving two young Shinigami to die. If I hadn't happened upon him, who knows how many he would have killed."

"Shut your mouth!" Ichigo held out his hand and gripped Zangetsu in a tight fist. He wasn't about to let this guy call his friend a murderer, Captain or not. He was snarling, he realized. "Let him go right now, or I'll break him out of there myself."

Kurotsuchi's expression slowly drifted into a cold burning scowl. Calmly, he pulled his own Zanpakuto out of the sash around his waist and let it rest at his side. "Do you think you can stand up to a Captain of the Gotei 13 with an unreleased Zanpakuto? Naive _and_ a fool; a deadly combination."

He was right, but for some reason, Ichigo couldn't draw out the power to activate Bankai. His hand trembled with the effort of trying.

"Your friend nearly killed me once, you know," that voice was like acid. "So you see, he has a history of violence against Shinigami. Which is why I'm going to squeeze every ounce of information about our enemy from him. Even if I have to tear him apart to get it."

Ichigo roared. So what if he couldn't activate Bankai. His friend was in danger, and he wasn't about to sit back and let that slide. He rushed forward, swinging his giant cleaver with all of the force that he could muster. Kurotsuchi caught the blade with a finger, stopping it dead.

"When I am finished with Ishida Uryu, _you_ will be the next subject I strap to that table." Kurotsuchi leaned in close, speaking directly into Ichigo's ear, "Anything I do will be deemed a necessary evil in this time of war. You can't hide anything from me."

Stumbling back, Ichigo yelped, "What does that mean? I'm not hiding anything!" He'd fought plenty of strong opponents up until now. He'd felt fear plenty of times, but this was different. This fear screeched deep within his very soul.

"Playing dumb won't save you-especially now that you are here-so you may as well come clean, Kurosaki Ichigo." The Gotei Captain's voice boomed, filling the room and shaking Ichigo to his core, "Why is it that your spiritual pressure is so similar to that of the Quincies that attacked Soul Society?"

". . . Huh?" Ichigo tried to swallow, but his throat was bone dry. Similar to the Quincies? That didn't make any sense. Almost unconsciously, he turned his spiritual sense inward and found exactly what he'd come to expect: There was the Hollow part of his soul, small compared to the Shinigami part, and the barely perceptible remnant of his Fullbringer ability. Nothing was out of the ordinary. It was all-

A shift in the flow of power made his vision swim. There _was_ something different there, intertwined with his usual power. "What is this?" Kurotsuchi watched him through narrowed eyes, but nothing more. Why didn't he say anything?!

Bracing himself on the window, Ichigo's mind raced. That Quincy over the river, Quilge-something . . . he must have done something to him.

"I'll give you one opportunity to ease your suffering. Be grateful." The Captain's voice was muffled by a ringing in Ichigo's ears. "Now tell me, how did you feel when you arrived here today? Did you have any urge to kill Shinigami? Were you given a mission to execute by Yhwach or Haschwalth?" Kurotsuchi was beside him now. His wide open eyes seemed to be trying to consume him.

Ichigo shook his head, "Who? What are you talking about?" The fuzziness was receding, but his legs were still shaky. "I came here because _you _called me!"

Kurotsuchi placed a hand on Ichigo's shoulder, and with a gentle push, drove him to his knees. Then, with two boney fingers, he pried Ichigo's eye open as wide as it would go. "Say that again. Under whose order did you come here?" The Captain pushed in close so that only his own bulging eye was visible.

Ichigo tried to stand and push the man away, but he couldn't lift his arms. "H-how should I know? Kisuke only told me the 12th Division wanted me to come!"

"Hmm . . ." Captain Kurotsuchi didn't move for what felt like an hour, his maddening stare enveloping Ichigo's entire field of view, then suddenly, with a grunt that sounded oddly relieved, he let go and stepped away. There was no time to breathe his own sigh of relief though, as the Shinigami quickly got close again and held up a hand. A sour mist puffed out of his sleeve, coating Ichigo's nose and tongue.

"What the hell!" Ichigo cried, forming the words as best he could between fits of coughing and wheezing. After a few agonizing seconds, he calmed down and, wiping spit and mucus from his face, stood on progressively less wobbly legs. Wincing at the soreness of his throat, he asked, "What was that all about?"

The mad scientist grinned, "Just testing a hypothesis, boy. You see, while the Gotei 13's forces suffered a great deal of casualties, so did the invading force. As a result, we've had the opportunity to study hundreds of Quincies and their Reiatsu in close detail. Do you know what we found in our search?" He returned to the monitor that he was working on before and continued without waiting for an answer, "All of them had, at one point or another, had a foreign Reiatsu implanted into them. We compared the psyches of those still under the influence of that foreign power to those who had been freed and found that it increased an individual's strength while also inflicting a sort of brainwashing. Very crude work, I say. It was laughably easy to undo." He threw his head back and cackled.

"And what does that have to do with me?" Brainwashing? Ichigo didn't feel any different.

"You," Kurotsuchi pointed back at him without turning around, "have fairly little to do with it, as it turns out. When I heard that you, someone with no history of displaying the qualities of a Quincy, suddenly began to express a Quincy-like Reiatsu, I simply had to observe. There was also the risk of you being taken in by the enemy I suppose, but that could have been dealt with in its own time. Fortunately, your Quincy power is not borrowed, so there is little danger to us. I cannot say the same for your friend there, however."

Relief quickly turned to tension at the mention of Ishida's involvement. Ichigo placed his hand on the glass and peered into the room where his friend lay. "You said that the Quincy soldiers were being brainwashed, right? So does that mean Ishida is the same? Can you help him?"

"Who do you think you're talking to? I've already freed him from that amateurish mind control. His case was the basis for all of my other experiments on the subject, in fact." It was difficult to tell with the toothy, wide-eyed expression that seemed to be Kurotsuchi's neutral face, but Ichigo got the impression he was being reassuring . . . probably. " and on that note, I've gleaned all I can on Quincies from Ishida Uryu, so I'd like you to take him off our hands."

"You're letting him go? No offense, but I didn't take you for the merciful type."

"A spent test subject is nothing more than wasted space." At the push of a button, the door to the dark hallway reappeared. At the same time, a small section of wall that wasn't taken up by the one-way mirror opened up into the small holding room.

Not wanting to give the Shinigami any chance to change his mind, Ichigo rushed to his friend's side. Before he could start shaking him awake, though, the shackles binding his arms and legs retracted and the wires covering his body detached on their own and retreated into the machine in the corner. "Ishida! Hey, Ishida!"

After a few moments without a reaction, Ishida's face finally contorted into a grimace.

He was awake.

\+ Shift +

Trying to block out the intense light blinding him through his eyelids, Ishida raised his hand and winced. His wrist stung, his elbow ached, and his shoulder felt as though he'd checked a corner a dozen or so times. When he lowered his hand again, he became aware of the pain across the rest of his body. His ankles felt much the same as his wrists, and his hips were all out of whack. He felt the urge to stretch his back, but got the impression that doing so would not make it feel any better. He was afraid to move his neck at all on account of how stiff it was.

Awareness crept up on him in waves. He was lying down, but not on any bed. This was more like a table; cold, hard, and aggressively flat. So flat, in fact, that the pain and discomfort he was experiencing was clearly caused by it. As for why he was lying there on the world's most uncomfortable surface . . .

He'd been asleep. That much was obvious by the general grogginess and slow return to full consciousness, but the why was less clear.

Furtive attempts to open his eyes confirmed the presence of a painfully bright light overhead washing out his vision and making his eyeballs pulse. He heard a noise, a voice, calling out to him. Kurosaki's, by the Reiatsu, and . . . Ishida gasped and sat up in a hurry, ignoring the spots dancing in his vision and the sensation of his vertebrae pressing down on the hard metal slab.

Everything came rushing back, the final leavings of unconsciousness swept away by torrential recollection. The Wandenreich, Lord Haschwalth and His Majesty Yhwach, the invasion of Soul Society and the part he played, it all left a searing afterimage in his mind not unlike the light being filtered through the lenses of his glasses.

What had he done? What had he been a part of? Those two rookie Shinigami . . . he'd looked down on them like dirty garbage underfoot. Covering his mouth was the only thing he could do to stop the bile pushing up his throat.

Somebody grabbed his shoulders and shook none too gently, "Ishida! Hey!" That voice rang in his ears and pulled his attention away from the harsh lamp hanging from the ceiling. Blinking through the distorted colors brought Kurosaki Ichigo into focus. "Hey, say something already! You're freaking me out!" Why was he even here?

"You're too loud," Ishida grumbled, rubbing his eyes, "and let go of me. That is no way to wake a sleeping person." The spots were clearing up, but the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't going away.

"Well it's good to see that that attitude of yours is intact," Kurosaki sighed, stepping back. What was with that relieved look? Did he not know what was going on? The Quincies attacking the Seireitei and . . .

"What happened?" There was little composure in his voice, "The Seireitei . . . the Quincies . . . how long have I been out?" Ishida reached out with trembling hands. He'd beg if he had to. "Please, Kurosaki, tell me. Something horrible hasn't happened, has it?"

"Oh many horrible things have happened. Of that you can be sure." Dread oozed from that familiar cackle. Ishida was almost too scared to turn his head and look at the Captain of the 12th Division. "We lost two Captains, a Lieutenant, and countless soldiers for starters. We currently sit on a razor's edge because your Quincy comrades have begun to stir again, and it seems that they did not bring the full weight of their strength down on us last time. I think it is safe to say that still more horrors will occur here before this conflict has resolved. And you've been asleep for about four days."

"Wha . . .?" Ishida was definitely breathing-his lungs were inflating, his chest expanding, and shoulders rising and falling-but his breaths didn't hold any air no matter how many he took.

"Calm down, Ishida!" Kurosaki leaned on the table, shooting Kurotsuchi an accusatory glare. "None of that stuff was your fault. This guy said it himself; you were brainwashed. It's alright." He was trying to put Ishida at ease, no doubt, but in doing so he only revealed how little he knew about what had happened.

"Alright? No, I don't think so. If this were all a dream, maybe. If this were a nightmare that I could wake up from and forget about, then it could be alright. It isn't, though." Ishida looked Kurosaki in the eye and his shoulders drooped. Seeing the pity on his friend's face sapped every ounce of strength out of him. "I believe that I was being influenced. It makes perfect sense, really. The decisions I've made, and the reasons behind them, feel like someone else's now. Yet I can't separate myself from them completely. It isn't as if I was trapped in my own head while somebody else moved my body. _I_ made those decisions. _I_ took those steps and said those words. _I_ agreed to join the invasion." He clenched his fists so hard that his arms shook. His fingernails dug into the skin of his palms. "I renounced my own grandfather because Lord Haschwalth told me to, Kurosaki."

"_Lord_ Haschwalth?" While Kurosaki's mouth worked soundlessly, surely trying comprehend what he meant and to find some kind of excuse, Captain Kurotsuchi chimed in. "Quite the respectful way to speak of someone who tried to control you and succeeded."

"You're right, I think. Honestly, I don't think calling it brainwashing is entirely accurate. When Lord . . . When Haschwalth told me to do something, I did it because I wanted him to be pleased with me. Rather than controlling my mind it's like he planted a seed inside my brain that made me look at his and Yhwach's cause favorably."

"Hmm . . . perhaps I spoke too soon. There seems to be more I can glean from your case after all. I would like to keep you here a little longer after all." Kurotsuchi smiled. It made Ishida's whole body tremble.

"I don't think I have any right to refuse." He said, hanging his head. He tried to keep his hands steady at least. He thought if he could do that, then maybe he'd be able to calm down and make some sense of all of this.

It wasn't working so far.

Trying to make sense of what had happened to him, what he'd done, was a wasted effort. There was no sense to it whatsoever. He had committed a grave sin in helping start this conflict. Submitting himself to the machinations of a mad scientist was a small price for redemption. If he could be redeemed at all.

The sharp bang of Kurosaki's palms hitting the table filled the cramped room. "We're leaving," he said, "Come on, Ishida."

"Wait, Kurosaki. Haven't you been listening? There may be more the Shinigami can learn from me. I need to stay here and-"

"Just shut up and come with me." Like a brute, Kurosaki grabbed Ishida's arm and dragged him off the table and, ignoring his protests, made for the door. "Thanks for taking care of him," Kurosaki spat as they passed a clearly displeased Kurotsuchi.

He didn't let go until they were out of the building heading who knew where, and even then Ishida had to wrench himself free of his friend's grip.

"You're out of line, Kurosaki! I don't know how you got the idea that I needed saving, but I never asked for your help." Ishida complained, doing his best to keep up on still shaky legs.

"Keep your voice down. We're getting enough dirty looks as it is," Kurosaki replied, ignoring Ishida's griping. He didn't bother turning around or slowing down.

Where did he get off? Telling Ishida to be quiet like an annoyed parent was the height of insolence. Why did he have to play at being a hero, thinking that what he did was best just because he didn't give the situation any real thought. Well, he wasn't getting away with it that easily.

"Listen here, you hard-headed lout, whatever it is you think is going on, I can guarantee that you don't know nearly as much as you think you do. _I_ barely have an idea, and I'm as tangled up in it as can be." They passed by groups of Shinigami with scowls on their faces and hands on their swords. Dirty looks, indeed. "I'm sorry, Kurosaki, but I'm not on the right side this time around. Look around at the destruction the Quincies caused."

He wouldn't have to look far. Broken spires loomed on the horizon, visible past crumbling walls and through collapsed buildings. Mountainous piles of rubble lined the shattered streets. And that didn't account for the toll on the Shinigami themselves. Many went about their business with arms in slings and patches over eyes. Others limped and clutched at bandages hidden beneath their uniforms. The fact that their medical facilities were overwhelmed was on full display.

It was all so clear, yet the idiot still refused to see. "You were brainwashed. None of this is your fault."

"I am a _Quincy_, Kurosaki. I cannot escape blame no matter how you try to spin it."

Finally, he stopped and turned. The look on his face was severe, but not at all aloof. "Being a Quincy doesn't make you evil."

"It isn't a matter of good versus evil! I am-" Ishida's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his eyes opened wide. He'd been glaring at Kurosaki's back this whole time, but he hadn't really _seen_ him until now. The mysterious amalgam of power that existed within Kurosaki Ichigo was there as normal, but nestled within that impossible tangle was the power of a Quincy.

He looked around at the Shinigami glaring daggers at him and realized that those harsh looks weren't just directed at him.

It didn't make any sense.

"I have to atone," he started, still taken aback. "My footprint in all of this destruction might be small; I might not have been in my right mind, but I've still done something unforgivable. It doesn't undo what's been done, I know that, but if I can atone for my sins by submitting myself to the Shinigami, then so be it."

"So you're just going to let that madman treat you like a guinea pig?! To hell with that!" Kurosaki's shout pushed Ishida onto his back foot. Now who was speaking too loudly? "If you've done something wrong, then the only way to make it right is to take action. It's enough to help protect Soul Society from now on, so get that self-sacrificial crap out of your head!"

Ishida reeled at the weight lifting from his shoulders. All Kurosaki had done was shout at him, but those words struck directly at the core of his worries.

How was he supposed to respond to that?

Collecting himself, Ishida met Kurosaki's determined gaze. "You're sure of yourself, aren't you. I'll take what you've said into consideration, but I still don't believe things are as simple as you think." Kurosaki bristled at that, but Ishida didn't give him a chance to complain. "Now then, we were on our way somewhere? Or did you drag me out of there without a destination in mind?"

Shaking his head like _he_ had to deal with a naive fool, Kurosaki continued to lead the way. "We're heading to the 4th Division. Rukia and Renji should be recovering there right now. I want to check up on them."

"So they were injured as well . . ." It was a relief to hear that they were still alive, at least. People had died. People he had met and possibly fought alongside at some point. Ishida sagged slightly, dreading to know who they were.

The 4th Division barracks were exactly as Ishida expected them to be, that is to say, a chaotic storm of physicians and patients moving and being moved. He'd only caught a glimpse of the madness of the 12th division's facility on his way out, but that was nothing compared to this.

While Ishida cringed at the impenetrable flood of people, Kurosaki hopped up and down, shading his eyes and scanning the undulating mob. It was pointless, though. Even without any idea of what he was looking for, it didn't take a genius to see that he couldn't possibly find any one person in such a crowd. And trying to find a path through was the same; a fruitless endeavor. They'd be better off leaping over the crowd.

But no, that wouldn't be a good idea either. As crowded as it was, it wasn't so busy that nobody would notice two people with Quincy power gunning for the center of the medical relief effort.

Had Kurosaki already realized that? It didn't seem like him to think things through thoroughly, but he did have a way of landing on the correct answer on instinct alone. Possibly proving this, his head flicked and he fixed his eyes on someone in the crowd. "Hey! Hey, Hanataro!" He shouted over the din of the mob, waving his arms frantically. After a moment, a meek-looking Shinigami astonishingly emerged from the crowd.

"Ichigo?! What are you doing here?" Yamada Hanataro ran up, bowing quickly. "You aren't injured are you?"

"Not really. We need to get into the barracks to see Rukia and Renji."

"Oh . . ." Hanataro lowered his eyes. He was wringing his hands on the sash slung over his shoulder. Even knowing that the two of them were alive, his reaction made Ishida's breath catch. "I'm not sure seeing them would be a good idea right now. Their injuries aren't too terrible; they'll be back on their feet in no time, but they've been really down. Captain Kuchiki's death really did a number on them."

Ishida froze. Kuchiki Byakuya was among the dead.

Kurosaki kept going, though. He already knew. "I figured that'd be hard on them. But that's all the more reason we need to see them. Some friendly faces might help."

"I see. That makes sense from a bedside manner point of view." Hanataro tilted his head, considering the suggestion. It only took him a few seconds to make up his mind. "Alright. I'll take you to them on one condition. Pretty much everyone who has gone in to see them has done so to pay their respects. This might sound odd, but please don't say 'sorry for your loss' or anything like that. They've had enough of that already, I think."

Without hesitation, Kurosaki nodded, "Got it. You hear that, Ishida? Let's go." Pulling Ishida along, he followed Hanataro into the crowd. Despite the surging mass of people, the 4th Division officer moved forward with no difficulty whatsoever, perhaps because of his relatively high rank. Either way, Ishida jerked his arm away and fell into step beside Kurosaki.

The last thing he wanted right now was to get swept away in a sea of frazzled Shinigami. Being who and what he was, getting trampled would be the least of his worries. That said, no one who passed so much as looked at them twice. His own anonymity was to be expected-Quincies didn't typically give off a detectable spiritual pressure-but Kurosaki possessed strength on par with the Sternritter. That mysterious new power should be acting like a beacon.

"Hanataro-san," Ishida stepped up closer to their guide and spoke as softly as he could while still being heard, "forgive me, but is it really a good idea for the two of us to be here right now? One person eager to enact revenge on the Quincies could spark a riot."

"Hmm," Hanataro tilted his head. It was difficult to tell if he was seriously considering the risk, especially since he chuckled and didn't break stride. "You're worried that someone might attack you because you are a Quincy? There's no need for that, you can be sure. Everyone here is working for the benefit of the injured. It might be another story if there was still fighting happening right now, but during this lull we can focus on that singular mission. And besides, you aren't the only Quincy in this crowd, if you hadn't noticed."

He hadn't.

When he stopped looking out for potential threats and began taking in the crowd as a whole, he was surprised to find that many of the people they passed gave off no spiritual pressure.

"According to Captain Kurotsuchi, much of the Quincy force is made up of people who have been conscripted against their will. It was a really tense arrangement the first couple of days, but the need for working hands pushed for their integration."

Ishida shook his head, "There's no way it was that simple. These people were trying to kill each other just a few days ago."

"I can't believe it either," the short medical officer laughed. "Maybe Captain Kurotsuchi did something to pacify them. Not a pleasant thought, of course, but if it helps keep casualties to a minimum, I can accept it. In the end, we're grateful for any help we can get." Taking a peek over his shoulder, Hanataro gave Ishida a shallow nod and reassuring smile.

All of the Quincies in the crowd . . . so they were brainwashed too? Ishida fell back beside Kurosaki, his mind churning. If all of these Quincies had the same experience as he did, then that would mean they weren't being directly controlled. Their actions while under Haschwalth's influence should have felt right, like they were acting out their own desires, and that feeling should still linger. Could they really be trusted to move around freely like this?

The hypocrisy made him feel ill. Could _they_ be trusted? What about Ishida himself? Even after he explained his involvement, Kurosaki didn't hesitate to trust and treat him as a friend. He went so far as to drag Ishida away from Kurotsuchi before he was made into a guinea pig. Did he truly deserve that trust?

These other Quincies were doing something to make amends. What was he doing? Letting himself be dragged around, that's what. Maybe if he applied himself in a similar way, he too could make things right.

In stark contrast to the building's surroundings the 4th Division barracks were immaculately organized and composed. White-robed Shinigami shuffled to and fro, pushing carts loaded with medicines and bandages or examining reports. A few patients, similarly dressed in white, were wandering around as well, and judging by the flow of Reishi, there were Quincies mixed in with the Shinigami patients.

The scale of integration made Ishida's head spin. Never before did he think that Shinigami and Quincies could interact so closely. It almost resembled . . .

No. He understood Sōken's philosophy better than anybody. And as much as he dreaded the thought, Haschwalth had been partially right about it. What his grandfather had suggested was little more than willful subjugation. That was fine, in his eyes, as long as the world of the living was protected from the Hollow threat. He should have strived for more. He should have fought and struggled to achieve true coexistence. Or something like it.

Something like what was happening in this place.

It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but progress was being made. Ishida stopped in his tracks hearing casual conversation and seeing active cooperation between Quincy and Shinigami, and it dawned on him that he had no right to talk about Sōken and his choices while he himself stood by and contributed nothing.

"Hey, Ishida! Don't fall behind!" Jarred by Kurosaki's inconsiderately loud voice, Ishida tried to ignore what he saw around him. Gawking did nothing, so he should be about his business.

He caught up with the others at a door demarking the start of a separate wing. For all of its feudal Japanese style, the 4th Division facility was laid out much the same as a modern hospital in the living world. The din of activity was quieter here. The patients lying in beds and sitting on benches looked much the same as what Ishida had seen so far, but there was a clear shift in the general attitude. Nobody smiled. The casual conversation that brightened the other wings was completely absent, and the only noticeable noise came from the rustling of clothes and the scratching of pen on paper. It was all so sterile. Not to mention tense.

The doctors in particular walked on eggshells as they went about their duties. Almost all of them had nauseous, thin-lipped frowns on their faces, and they avoided looking at their patients as much as possible. It was easy to see why. Few patients in this wing raised their heads to look around, and those whose eyes weren't glued to the floor didn't seem to be looking at anything at all. The bile in Ishida's stomach sat like a lead weight. He fit in much better here than in the other wings.

Hanataro came to a stop by a shut door at the end of a particularly long hall. He turned to face Kurosaki, shooting a glance Ishida's way every now and then. "And here we are. Now, it's not that I don't trust you Ichigo, I do, but just remember that they need someone to lift their spirits, not pity them. That goes for you too, Ishida-san."

"I said I got it, didn't I? Let's get in there." Kurosaki practically bounced on the balls of his feet while Hanataro considered his response. He seemed to be convinced, but just barely as he turned with a wary expression.

"We're coming in," the medical officer said softly, opening the door at a creeping pace. Kurosaki pushed past him as soon as there was enough room. Ishida, exercising a fair amount more patience, waited until Hanataro showed him in.

The room was smaller than the other rooms they'd passed on the way, clearly being meant for one or two people only. There were two occupied beds set just far enough apart that a physician could work on each of them without being cramped. Kurosaki stood in that space, looking from Rukia to Renji and back again. There was an awkwardness that Ishida hadn't expected. He considered these two Shinigami his friends, Rukia more than Renji, but Kurosaki was far closer to both of them. For there to be so much tension with them merely being in the same room was anxiety inducing.

Hanataro clearly felt the same. His regret was as plain as his spiritual pressure. Still, he stood back and watched with wide eyes.

"Rukia . . . Renji . . ." Kurosaki spoke softly, his earlier eagerness and bravado nowhere to be seen, "so Byakuya really is gone, huh?" Hanataro's sputtering shock would have made Ishida jump if not for the oppressive weight of the air at that moment. The silence that followed that careless comment was suffocating.

"Yeah, he is. And we couldn't do a damn thing." Renji barely moved his head to glare up at Kurosaki, challenging him to say something as condescending as it was supportive. It was clear that that frustration was fake, though. The rings under his eyes, and Rukia's, spoke of long, sleepless nights. By the rasp in his voice and the pallor of their skin, they hadn't been taking care of themselves beyond letting the doctors heal their injuries. In short, they were a collective mess.

Kurosaki returned that tired glare with one of his own and crossed his arms, "Is that all you have to say? Couldn't do anything? That's bull and you know it." Ishida wanted to tackle him.

The sound of Renji's teeth grinding was suddenly the loudest sound in the room. "You-! Are you trying to say that it's our fault?! Huh?!"

"Did I say that, idiot?"

Hanataro leapt into action, slipping in front of Kurosaki and trying to push him away. "What are you doing, Ichigo? I know I said you shouldn't pity them, but this is way too far in the other direction!"

"It sure sounded like it, you bastard!" Renji threw the sheets from his bed and stood to stare down Kurosaki. Poor Hanataro tried desperately to keep the two separate, but they still ended up fiercely butting heads.

Rukia stood as well and closed in with indignation burning in her eyes. "You're a good friend, Ichigo, but if you don't have a good explanation for this, we won't let you get away with it.

Kurosaki refused to back down. Admirable or stupid, it was an impressive feat. Between Rukia, standing firm with her arms crossed and seeming to tower above the other two, and Renji's snarling glare, he couldn't be blamed for losing at least a little ground.

Gritting his teeth, Kurosaki pressed forward, "How long have you guys been lying in those beds?" Suddenly, the Shinigami didn't seem nearly so imposing. The intensity in their expressions vanished as he went on, "If I had to guess, you haven't gotten up unless you absolutely had to. From what I hear, it's been nearly a week since the Quincies attacked. You're already recovered, so why aren't you doing anything?"

Rukia bit her lip, but Renji fought back, "What do you know? You weren't there. You didn't fight them. You didn't get brushed aside while someone important to you was killed!"

For just a moment, it looked like Kurosaki would back down, but he clenched his fists and said, "You're right. I was lucky that no one was killed, but don't go acting like you were the only one who was helpless." His knowing grimace gave everyone pause. What exactly happened in the world of the living while the Seireitei was being invaded? "Sitting still and worrying about what we could have done is pointless. This fight isn't over yet."

"You're telling us to move on? Just like that?" The edges of Rukia's mouth turned up in a bitter smile. She was right to be skeptical. No matter what he'd been through during the invasion, Kurosaki wasn't there. He wasn't directly involved. He couldn't understand what these two went through. And he couldn't possibly understand what Ishida had been through either. Could anyone?

"I can't force you to do anything. What you decide is your business, but as your friend I can't sit back and watch you dig yourself into a hole. Call it what you like, but you're already standing on your own two feet again. That's progress if you ask me." He gave both of them a reassuring glance, and . . . did he spare a look for Ishida as well?

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, Ichigo, but it isn't that easy. We still have a lot to work through, and it's more than just our failure to protect my brother." As if to refuse his suggestion outright, Rukia sat on her bed. After a moment, Renji nodded and did the same.

Kurosaki opened his mouth to argue, but closed it before getting any words out. He was at a loss. Ishida crossed his arms and lowered his head. He sympathized with Kurosaki's attempts to help his friends, he really did, but optimism from outside could feel like condescending pressure at times like these. Rukia and Renji were right. Simply standing up was a good start, but without a direction to move in you'd exhaust yourself and eventually end up right back where you started.

It was painful to watch, so much so that Ishida was tempted to leave them to work it out by themselves. He wouldn't, though. Kurosaki was his friend, and the others as well to a certain extent, and despite all the mistakes and poor decisions he'd made recently, he'd at least remain firm on this. Hanataro, apparently having no such feelings, slunk out from between them looking as if he'd just run a marathon.

The silence stretched on until Kurosaki sighed, "Fine then. I'll do what I can to protect you, so take all the time you need." For some reason the air became heavier. Rukia and Renji were avoiding Kurosaki's eyes, staring at their hands or off to the side, but they both shot him a furious look and made an even bigger show of ignoring him.

He failed, it seemed, whatever it was he was trying to accomplish with this visit. But still he stood there between the beds, waiting for them to come around to his way of thinking. And if Ishida knew him half as well as he thought he did, he really would stand there until they changed their minds. He could be flippant and impatient at times, but Kurosaki was nothing if not stubborn about his friends.

This was going to take a while. Unfortunately, Ishida didn't have any reason to leave. In fact, if he did leave by himself, he wasn't sure where he'd end up. Much like the Shinigami sulking in those beds, he was up on his feet, but without Kurosaki guiding him, he had no sense of where to go or what to do. Perhaps he could do some soul searching himself while he waited for things to be resolved.

Just as he was preparing to get comfortable, a knock came at the door. Moments later the Captain of the 8th Division showed himself in.

"Well now, it's a bit crowded in here, isn't it." In the few instances when Ishida had been around Captain Kyōraku Shunsui, he gave off an air of aloofness, like he wasn't totally invested in what was going on around him. Now, it seemed that he was trying to maintain that disinterested presence, but the facade was cracked. He looked tired, like there was a lot on his shoulders. He smiled, but it was unpracticed. "I figured I'd find you here, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Kurosaki gave a start, "Kyōraku-san? You were looking for me?"

"Indeed I was. As soon as I heard you were in Soul Society, in fact. I have a request, or rather an order." Kyōraku's Lieutenant handed him a paper from the stack in her arms. He held it out for Kurosaki to take. "As Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, I'm enlisting you into our forces until this war has run its course." All eyes were on him now.

"What do you mean 'enlist'? I'm just a substitute, or did you forget that?" To his credit, Kurosaki kept his cool remarkably well. No one else had collected themselves enough to make a sound.

Kyōraku shrugged, "If we're going to get technical, you're under Jūshirō's jurisdiction, but I'm going over his head. We need your power, substitute or not. And if you refuse, well, the Gotei 13 has overlooked quite a few transgressions on the part of you and your friends. It would be a shame if we had to dredge up past grievances."

Kurosaki stepped forward at the overt threat, but it was Rukia who spoke up, "This isn't Ichigo's fight, Captain-Commander!"

"Not his fight, huh?" Kyōraku smirked, but the threat never left his eyes. "The Seireitei was attacked by a hostile force of Quincies a few days ago. At the same time, Kurosaki Ichigo, Inoue Orihime, and Yasutora Sado were attacked and injured by a powerful Quincy." Ishida's eyes widened. He hadn't heard about this. He wasn't alone in his shock, either. Rukia and Renji's glares for Kurosaki softened to worried glances. "And let's not forget that new power of his. Or did you not notice? No matter how you slice it, Kurosaki Ichigo is already a part of this fight."

Nobody raised an objection. How could they?

"What would you have me do?" Kurosaki said, almost growling. He saw the reason of the situation as clearly as everyone else, and he clearly liked it least by far.

"Nothing too troublesome. All we want is for you to lend us your power. You'll have autonomy as an agent of Soul Society. You'll be free to do as you please as long as you follow the few orders I'm likely to give you. How does that sound?"

It sounded too good to be true. Kyōraku presented it as an offer for Kurosaki's benefit, but felt the need to threaten him at the same time. That could only mean the benefit would fall apart under scrutiny. They were leading with a carrot while holding a knife to his back. He'd have to be an idiot to accept such a shady deal.

Kurosaki scratched his head, looking appropriately put upon. "Fine. I'll help you guys out. But know that I'll follow your orders only as long as it suits me." The idiot accepted.

"I wouldn't expect anything more," Kyōraku smiled, a much more genuine expression than before, and waved Kurosaki over. "Now, for my first request, I'll need you to follow me.

"Where to?" At least he was being a little wary.

"The Captains are gathering for a visit from the 0 Division. I'd like you to attend as well." He turned, ignoring the choking noises from the Shinigami in the room, "Come along now. These are not the kind of people you want to keep waiting."

Rukia and Renji avoided one last look from Kurosaki before he followed the apparent Captain-Commander out. Ishida trailed behind, but when he shut the door Kyōraku held up a hand. "Sorry, Ishida Uryu, but I'm going to have to bar you from attending this meeting."

"What? Why?" Kurosaki said, getting angry on his behalf. Ishida was already quite sure of the reason, though.

"Look, I can appreciate the reality that you aren't our enemy, but bringing someone who was fighting for the enemy just a few days ago to a meeting with what is essentially a royal guard would reflect poorly on our judgment." The air of authority in his voice wiped clear any doubts about this man being the new Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13. He continued on his way without waiting for a rebuttal, exercising his power as a leader.

Kurosaki tried to argue, but Ishida placed a hand on his arm. "It's alright, Kurosaki. He's right. I don't know what this 0 Division is, but if the Captains are expected to gather for their arrival they must be very important. Most likely, they'll criticize the Captains' ability to lead in the wake of the invasion, and having a former enemy soldier present would only make things worse."

Fending off more of his friend's complaints, Ishida pushed Kurosaki along until he finally left to chase after Kyōraku on his own. He was alone now. Without Kurosaki around he lacked the directing force that kept him moving.

He knew that, though.

Ishida Uryu may as well have been lost at sea with nothing but a sail-less raft. He was no different than the lost souls populating this wing of the 4th Division barracks. It was a dire condition to be in, but he couldn't rely on Kurosaki forever. The only thing waiting for him if he did was dependency, and he wasn't about to allow that to happen. He smothered the part of himself that wanted to stick to Kurosaki's side at all costs for fear of being set adrift.

Surrendering himself to the will of the proverbial waves was the only option open to him if he wanted to make amends for his mistakes. Fear crept up his spine, threatening to root him to the spot. He needed to move. This place was poison in his current state of mind.

Keeping his eyes firmly ahead, Ishida retraced the route Hanataro had taken to get them to Rukia and Renji's room, and in no time he was back to the more uplifting wings of the hospital. The hustle and bustle outside might be too much for him at the moment, but this environment could help him ease into that self-driven mindset. He meandered, making his way through the busy halls at a leisurely pace. Short snippets of conversations between doctor and patient, and Shinigami and Quincy caught his attention, so he paused and listened before moving on.

He exchanged supportive, understanding looks and nods with a number of patients, both Shinigami and Quincy. But the further he traveled, the more a small doubt grew. He sympathized with these people, but he didn't recognize a single face in the crowd. Neither the Quincies or Shinigami were familiar to any extent. He'd never seen any of them even in passing.

Doubt weighed on his mind, slowing his feet. Wanting to help protect the Seireitei planted him firmly on the side of the Shinigami, and he was a Quincy, born and raised. Yet he was an outsider to both camps. All of his friends were distant or indisposed. In sending Kurosaki away, he'd deprived himself of the one solid point of support he had. Forget a sail-less raft, he was adrift with nothing but a piece of driftwood to cling to.

And his grip was slipping.

"Umm, Ishida-san?" A vaguely familiar voice made Ishida jump. He whirled around to face one of the rookie Shinigami that had been assigned to Karakura Town. "It is you, isn't it, Ishida-san?" Yuki Ryūnosuke looked up at Ishida, wide-eyed and covered with bandages and braces.

"You . . .!" Ishida took an involuntary step back. He couldn't look this young man in the eye, not whit all of those injuries drawing his attention. He'd had just a few bumps and scratches the last time they ran into each other. Which meant most of those bandages and braces were Ishida's doing. The large wrap around Ryūnosuke's head in particular stood out.

The rookie shook his hands frantically, "Sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt you. I just had something that I needed to say, you see." He ignored Ishida's shock and chattered on nervously, "I heard all about the brainwashing business, so I understand why you did what you did. You weren't yourself, so it isn't your fault. I'm actually really relieved, knowing that. A-anyway, since Shino-san hasn't woken up yet, I figured I could speak for the both of us." Ryūnosuke took a step back, placed his hands at his side, and lowered his head in a deep bow that made Ishida's skin crawl, "Thank you for sparing our lives, Ishida-san! I am forever grateful!"

That fervent expression of gratitude hung in the air like a thick smog while Ryūnosuke held his bow. When he finally raised his head again, he smiled nervously and said, "That . . . Well, that was all I needed to say, so I'll be going now. Thank you again, Ishida-san!" With a wave, he was gone, as suddenly as he'd appeared.

Ishida stared, unblinking, long after he was out of sight. He couldn't breathe, let alone move.

Bile lapped at the back of his throat and he wretched, nearly emptying his stomach on the spot. Sweat dripped down his face, blurring his vision and making him feel as slimy on the outside as he did inside.

He'd tried to kill those rookie Shinigami. That was a fact. He remembered his intentions very clearly; they were obstacles, mere annoyances to squash underfoot. He'd had every intention of killing them, and the only reason he didn't was that they weren't worth his time.

So why was he _thanked_?!

Ishida stumbled, leaning hard against the wall. The hand he braced himself on trembled so that he couldn't muster the strength to straighten up again. He was a monster. The kind of horrific creature that demands blood tribute in exchange for not laying waste to the world around him. That undeserved gratitude seared his soul.

Someone, a doctor or nurse, he couldn't tell which, stopped to help him, but he refused them. He didn't deserve anyone's help. Wiping the sweat and tears from his eyes, he straightened himself and put on the most convincing calm he could manage. It was an effort that strained him to his limits, but the Shinigami nodded, returning to their duties with a worried expression.

Through sheer force of will, Ishida carried himself out of the 4th Division barracks with a straight back. The crowd outside swept him away and deposited him out of sight of the building. And just as well. All of those Quincies, freed from the strings of the Wandenreich and working to right their wrongs . . . it was painful to be in their presence.

The depth of his sin was far greater than theirs. Where they fought against an enemy they didn't know, he turned his blade on those he'd considered allies to one extent or another. Simply working hard to assist the Seireitei was not nearly enough to make amends. Pressing his back against the wall of an empty alleyway, Ishida slowly sank deeper and deeper into despair. He was irredeemable, so why shouldn't he let his legs give out? Why shouldn't he sit and rot here in this forgotten corner?

_Sitting still and worrying about what we could have done is pointless_.

The voice echoed in his head, but he smothered it.

_If you've done something wrong, then the only way to make it right is to take action_.

And what was he supposed to do? Move boxes? Deliver paperwork? His mistake was much too personal for that. He wouldn't be redeemed so easily. Kurosaki's face flashed in his mind.

. . . _you're already standing on your own two feet_ . . .

He . . . He _was_ standing on his own, wasn't he? His mind was his own. Haschwalth wasn't in control anymore. Ishida pushed, halting his slide to the ground. He wasn't down yet.

As long as he could stand, he could still do something, however small, to fix his mistakes. Without Kurosaki to guide him, he was aimless, but so what? If the worst that could happen was that he ended up right back on the collision course with the ground, then what exactly did he have to lose by trying?

Another possibility existed. Things wouldn't turn out perfectly in all likelihood, but they wouldn't get better if he didn't take that first step. Ishida straightened and pushed himself off the wall, wide-eyed. Sōken, he . . . was that the point? Working with the Shinigami wasn't a dead-end, it was a first step! It was never ideal, but without establishing that relationship there was no way to improve the situation. Wasn't it possible that, by throwing away their pride, the Quincies could have prevented their destruction? His grandfather's kind face drifted to the surface of his thoughts. That man had intended to sacrifice himself to protect what he cared about. He would have subjected himself to Shinigami control in order to ensure the survival of the Quincies. Of that, Ishida had no doubt. Not anymore.

Sōken's attempt ended in failure. Things turned out just as they would have if he hadn't done anything. But that small chance for success made clear a peaceful world that could be reached with enough effort. Realizing that, Ishida clenched his fists and blinked back tears. He wasn't going to be overwhelmed by his mistakes. He wouldn't let his sin define him. There was no path ahead of him, so he'd just have to make one.

But how? He could confirm his resolve as much as he liked, but the fact remained that he had no idea where to even start. _No,_ he shook his head, _if I insist on doing this myself, I'll just end up standing still again. If Sōken can swallow his pride, so can I!_

That left the question of who he could ask for help. He almost faltered, realizing that the only real friend he had in the Soul Society was Kurosaki, and he wasn't in a position to help anyone at the moment. And furthermore, that guy was more the type to take the reins and protect you from trouble than the type to help you down your own path.

He could try to contact Urahara Kisuke, but that man was supposed to be a fugitive from the Seireitei. How many people could he approach who had any way to contact him? Ishida danced around the idea as long as he could, but ultimately, there was only one person he could turn to.

"It's enough to help protect Soul Society, right, Kurosaki?"

He would have to apologize to Kurosaki for not following his advice later, but for now he had some things to discuss with a certain mad scientist.


	13. Chapter 13

The courtyard where the 0 Division would descend was rather quiet with only the Captains waiting around. Typically, there would be a regular guard posted due to the area's proximity to the Central 46's facilities, but those were all dismissed. This was to be a private meeting. Judging by the grumbling coming from the other Captains, though, it didn't deserve that consideration.

For the most part, Kurotsuchi Mayuri agreed with that sentiment. There was much to be done and increasingly little time. There was no telling when the Quincy forces would mobilize again. There were preparations to be made, information to be processed, theories to be tested. The whole thing was putting so much tension in his neck and shoulders it was a wonder he could even turn his head.

Fortunately, he had no need to worry about the pain of stiff muscles. A quick jerk snapped everything back into place with a loud, satisfying pop. Feeling refreshed, he looked to each of the Captains. If he was going to be forced to wait here, then he may as well try and get some work done.

The new Captain-Commander hadn't yet arrived. Unsurprising. That man's lackadaisical demeanor wouldn't change just because he received a promotion. He'd likely only arrive just as the 0 Division did. There wasn't much that could be done with him either way, so that was fine.

Of those already present, Soi Fon and Ōtoribashi were lost causes. The absolutely molten looks in their eyes alone indicated a determination to improve themselves, and unfortunately, they already knew how they were going to accomplish that. No point in even approaching them.

Muguruma and Hirako were also out. Those fools were too suspicious to even hear him out. One might think they considered him a threat by the way they eyed him. Very unprofessional. Not to mention they were Urahara Kisuke's work. There would be no merit in modifying _that_ man's experiments.

He wasn't going to go anywhere near Unohana or Zaraki. That much would not change no matter who happened to be threatening the Soul Society. That left just three candidates. Ukitake looked resigned, and regardless of the reason, that made him a promising mark. That was a fruit that could be picked at any time. The other two were on the cusp of becoming overripe, though. No time to waste.

Frustration and self-loathing painted Hitsugaya and Komamura's faces. They stood next to each other, and yet they were as distant as they could be. They were isolated by their failure. Kurotsuchi's fingers twitched. That vulnerability was tantalizing. They didn't even seem to notice when he approached. "Gentlemen," some people said he had a voice like a venomous snake, so he tried being a little sweeter, "it feels like it has been ages since we last spoke. Unavoidable given the circumstances, yes?"

The heat from their gazes would have made him sweat if he could. How scary. But no matter the intensity in their eyes, the self-doubt still shone through.

"I come to you with a generous offer. A chance to make up for your earlier failures, if you will. All it would take is a little modification here and there, and I could grant you the power to fix your mistakes with ease. What do you say?" He opened his arms in the most peaceful, innocent gesture he knew, and smiled just a smidge wider than usual to put them at ease.

Komamura growled, a deep guttural noise befitting his animalistic appearance, "You are as conniving as ever, even now. I would admonish you for your disgraceful behavior, however this isn't the time for such petty squabbles."

"I couldn't agree more! All the more reason to accept my offer. We need to work together in times such as these!" Kurotsuchi wrung his hands greedily. If he didn't know any better, he'd worry he might be drooling. A few well placed pushes is all it would take to convince the dog-man to see reason, he was sure!

"We see eye-to-eye on that point, at least. Still, I must decline your _generous_ offer," the towering beast spoke politely, but he couldn't keep the snarl from his face. "I must avenge the late Captain-Commander in my own way." So he belonged to the first group after all. What a waste.

Kurotsuchi turned away from Komamura and promptly forgot he existed. No point wasting valuable processing power on a lost cause. Directing his attention to Hitsugaya, he extracted as much of the venom from his voice as was possible without modifying his vocal chords, "Well, my boy? What do you say? I have much experience in dulling pain, in case you were concerned."

"You make me sick." And people said _he_ had a venomous tongue. "I'd suffer a thousand defeats before I let you anywhere near me with your disgusting experiments." The heat contained in the glare Hitsugaya shot Kurotsuchi's way could make one forget he possessed the strongest ice and snow type Zanpakuto.

"That's all well and good, but consider this: when the Seireitei itself is at stake and your comrades' survival hinges on your success, will you still be so adamant?" Hitsugaya clenched his jaw, biting back a poorly thought through rebuttal. Simple reason was all it took to douse fiery types like him. Alas, it could do nothing for the smoldering heat coming through his large, naive eyes. "The next time your weakness allows the enemy to gain the upper hand, will your pride save you? Of course it won't. And don't think that the enemy will be so arrogant as to leave you alive a second time."

The young Captain took a step back, feeling the pressure of the truth. He was talented, to be sure, but that natural affinity for strength bred a dangerous ignorance in him. Rising through the ranks as quickly as he had, he lost sight of his weak points. Those weak points that were buried beneath his strengths were now exposed and ripe for exploitation! One more push and he'd become the perfect test subject; malleable and prepared to sacrifice everything for the good of the Seireitei.

"Surely you can see the merits of my offer. Never again will you need to fear failure." A little more. An outstretched hand, a soft smile, a comforting tone. Just a little more. The look in Hitsugaya's eyes was that of a cornered animal that could neither run nor fight. Perfect.

Before the boy could surrender himself, though, a sharp clapping drew everyone's attention. The new Captain-Commander had arrived at last, and with Kurosaki Ichigo in tow, it seemed. What awful timing.

No matter. Hitsugaya was on the brink. If he just gave him one last push . . .

Hitsugaya's expression was significantly more firm when Kurotsuchi looked back. The air of the frightened animal was gone, enveloped in the fiery heat of his pride and determination. This one was a failure too. What rotten luck.

The young Captain slapped Kurotsuchi's hand away, "You've always been a real slime ball, but you're crossing a line here. I'll give you a pass for now, but if you keep pushing me, I _will_ push back." And with that, he stormed off to be alone with the other Captains. So childish. These fools could at least submit themselves for research. Their entire way of life was at stake for goodness sakes!

Kurotsuchi didn't get much time to sulk over his comrades' selfish pridefulness, though. The Captain-Commander was making an announcement. Was it worth listening to?

". . . hopefully. I've been informed that they'll be here shortly, but who can say. This _is_ the 0 Division we're talking about." Apparently not. Kyōraku stood at the head of the spaced out collection of Shinigami fielding questions and concerns. None of the Captains looked placated at all. "On that note, keep in mind that we're dealing with the royal guard. It isn't too much to ask for a little propriety now is it?

"That depends on them," Captain Hirako chimed in with that flat, toothy expression of his. Did the muscles in his face even work? Perhaps he was worth studying after all.

"Yes, well, please try anyway. I haven't even been properly assigned as Captain-Commander yet, so I'd rather not start off with an infighting incident. I'll be counting on all of you." Hirako's weren't the only eyes rolling. False meekness was unbecoming and in poor taste, even as a joke. No one was in the mood for that.

Seminars on proper behavior were all well and good, but Kurotsuchi was much more interested in something else. "Care to explain why you've brought Kurosaki Ichigo along to this meeting?" The other Captains turned to him, then back to Kyōraku. There were now two vacant Captain seats, and Kurosaki Ichigo possessed strength on par with the Captains. Did the acting Captain-Commander intend to use this boy to fill one of those seats?

The consensus was clear on everyone's faces. Even as an emergency war-time measure, that would be going too far.

"Now, now, I know what you all are thinking, and I assure you that isn't the case. We need candidates with proper experience _as well as_ power, something that Kurosaki lacks. No, those vacant positions will have to wait until this is over I'm afraid." He smiled in a way that most might find reassuring, but his eye held a bone-chilling light. Kyōraku would do anything to protect the Soul Society, even if that meant using up Kurosaki Ichigo and everybody else in attendance. That was the sort of look he swept over the Captains in response to their concerns.

Perhaps he would make a fine Captain-Commander after all.

Kyōraku waved his hand as if to dismiss the Captains, "If we're all out of questions and concerns, then I'd like you all to wait patiently for the 0 Division's arrival. It shouldn't be long now."

Indeed it was not long before everyone's eyes were drawn up into what appeared to be an empty blue sky. A tremendous spiritual energy was descending rapidly from on high, and with it, the air of animosity around the Captains grew. Nobody moved or spoke in anticipation of the arrival of the dreaded 0 Division. At least, nobody who knew what was coming.

"What the heck is that?!" Kurosaki Ichigo stared wide-eyed. His mouth hung open in a mix of astonishment and unease judging by the set of his jaw and shoulders. The boy had a way of diffusing tense situations, but that was unlikely to occur here. Oh, he'd most certainly get along with the members of the 0 Division, but there were grudges in place here that had been festering for centuries.

With a deafening crash, a building-sized pillar of smooth white stone slammed into the ground, sending a tremendous amount of dirt and dust into the air. Kurosaki's surprised shout was mostly drowned out by the shockwave. Hopefully he wouldn't be so easy to startle for the rest of this meeting. The last thing the Gotei 13 needed right now was to have one of their representatives-even a substitute-act like a panicky simpleton.

The dust cleared before anything moved. Typical of the so-called Royal Guard to make them wait as long as possible. Kyōraku cleared his throat but didn't bother beating the dust from his clothes. Nobody did. If the 0 Division wanted to make their entrance in such a fashion, then they could deal with their audience being a little disheveled. Just imagining Shutara's disgust put a smile on Kurotsuchi's face.

A fine line appeared on the surface of the pillar, forming into the shape of a door. The rectangular segment receded into the structure, revealing an obscuring darkness. The sound of approaching footsteps was distant. After what felt like several agonizingly slow minutes, the 0 Division emerged, and . . .

A large, obnoxious banner unfurled alongside a blaring fanfare of horns, drums, and strings. The once silent courtyard now echoed with that irritating noise. They hadn't changed one bit. The five members of the 0 Division looked down their noses at the Captains of the Gotei13.

The air itself around the Captains bristled. Even Kurotsuchi, with his flair for the flamboyant, thought this tacky display was in poor taste.

"I see you've all come to greet us! That's good, that's good." The Head Priest, Hyōsube Ichibē, stepped forward, "It warms our hearts to see the representatives of the 13 Divisions gathered here for our arrival. Even after so long, camaraderie between us is alive and well!" His rolling laughter fit perfectly with his billowing beard and wide, toothy smile. Jolly was a term that fit the leader of the 0 Division quite well. That amiable demeanor did nothing to ease the tension, though.

The other members of the Royal Guard fanned out on their own. The thuggish Kirinji Tenjirō stopped in front of Captain Unohana and fixed her with a critical glare. If memory served, they had something of a master-student relationship. A member Kurotsuchi did not recognize approached Captain Hirako. The bulbous woman must have joined during his stay in the Maggot's Nest. They, too, appeared to be acquainted, though Hirako's incredulity was noteworthy. The smith, Nimaiya Ōetsu, stayed back, hovering just behind Hyōsube and grinning like a fool. The last member unfortunately made a bee-line for Kurotsuchi. The person he least wanted to see right now-save for Urahara Kisuke, of course-glided towards him, instruments held in golden mechanical arms still blaring, and that obnoxious banner still rippling despite a lack of wind. Shutara Senjumaru usually appeared quite elegant, serene and impeccably neat, but that illusion was shattered by her penchant for gaudy demonstrations. Her lack of taste was just one of the points that Kurotsuchi found odious.

"That's quite the frightening look on your face, Mayuri. I'm absolutely trembling." An overlong sleeve did nothing to conceal her mock chuckling. "I would have thought your time in the Nest would have mellowed you out, but clearly I was expecting too much."

"You've changed very little yourself. You still lack any sort of tact." It was an effort not to spit those words. This woman may well raise his hackles more than Urahara Kisuke. If only by a small margin.

"A poor attempt at a petty insult? I thought you could do better than that." Infuriating. At least she was tucking her instruments and banner away. The six skeletal arms holding them disappeared beneath her robes.

Kurotsuchi grimaced as his fingers twitched. He wanted to smack that insufferably smug face of hers, but that would be short-sighted, and there was very little room for mistakes right now. So he set his jaw and prepared the most vicious tongue-lashing he could put together on short notice. Surely it would be alright for him to take her down a few pegs as long as it didn't come to physical violence. Before he could open his mouth, though, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

"It certainly has been a long time since our two groups have had a chance to catch up," Hyōsube used his meaty hand to give Kurotsuchi an uncomfortably friendly shake while he addressed the crowd. "Some of you may have some things you'd like to say to each other, but please do it later. There is important business to discuss first!" He gathered the rest of the 0 Division behind him and Kyōraku did the same with the Captains and Kurosaki Ichigo.

"You say there is business to discuss," Kyōraku said, taking the initiative, "but I'm not entirely sure what it is you intend to do here."

"I see . . . that makes things slightly more difficult. It is too bad that young Shigekuni had to get himself killed." Murderous auras sprang up around the Captains, but they held their tongues. Komamura failed to suppress a growl deep in his throat, however. "You are new in the position of Captain-Commander, so I suppose that is understandable. In the interest of wrapping this up quickly, I suppose you could say that we have come to assist you in cleaning up your mess." The air around the Captains grew frighteningly still. "Before you are attacked again we will help you rebuild, equip you with more durable equipment, and see that your forces are healthy. Of course, we plan on extending an offer to train some of your more powerful soldiers, all of you here included if you wish, as well."

"You've got to be kidding!" Unsurprisingly, the first to crack was Captain Soi Fon. Kurotsuchi had no urge to criticize her for stepping forward, though. "You sat on your hands up there while the Seireitei was invaded, while our comrades _died_, and you have the gall to appear now and _offer_ your assistance? Who do you think you are?!"

In what could only be described as a flash, Kirinji Tenjirō stood before Soi Fon. He leaned over looking particularly thuggish and hanging his ridiculous pompadour over her head, "We're the Royal Guard, in case you forgot. Our job is guarding the Soul King and maintaining his palace. And you guys are the Gotei 13. _Your_ job is guarding the Seireitei. Ain't that right? We're only here because you couldn't keep a handle on your mess, so don't go acting like you're hot stuff!"

It was a testament to how shaken Soi Fon was that she didn't immediately bite the brute's head off. She actually might have, given a few more seconds, but the Head Priest stepped in before that could happen. "That's quite enough, Tenjirō. Please step back into line." With an aggressive pat on the shoulder, Hyōsube put Kirinji with the rest of his comrades. "My compatriot may be fairly hotheaded, for that you have my apologies," he started, pacing back and forth so as to include all of the Captains in his lecture, "but he is correct. Unlike the Gotei 13, the 0 Division is an administrative body. Our job is to protect the Soul King by maintaining the system of balance that supports the universe. When it comes to threats to His safety, we rely on you all to hold the line. You have failed, so we have come to prop you up that you might face the enemy again."

"Well said, Head Priest. I understand the depths of our failure now, I think." Kyōraku stepped forward groveling in front of the leader of the 0 Division. Or so it seemed at first. "Thank you for the assistance, and for the offer of training as well. I must decline, unfortunately. Pesky responsibilities will be keeping me quite busy, but I would be happy to extend your offer to the other Captains. Well? Anybody interested?" He turned back to the Captains, their frustration and indignation reflected in his lone eye. No one stepped forward to accept.

They were the Captains of the Gotei 13. If they were going to get stronger, they'd do it their own way. Kurotsuchi hoped that some of them might come his way, but he wasn't holding his breath.

Turning back to the members of the 0 Division, Kyōraku smiled, "As you can see, we are in agreement. Your services in that regard will not be needed." The members of the 0 Division showed no signs of irritation, but it was satisfying nonetheless.

"That is unfortunate," Hyōsube shook his head. He sounded somewhat disappointed, but his amiable expression never faltered.

"I do have a counter offer for you, if you'll hear it." Kyōraku sauntered over to Kurosaki and presented him like prized livestock. "This is Kurosaki Ichigo, a substitute Shinigami of considerable strength. If possible, I would like you to make the same offer to him." So that was his game . . . very interesting.

The Head Priest scratched his chin through his prodigious beard and scrutinized the young man with bulbous, wide eyes. "Kurosaki Ichigo, you say? You would be the one who defeated that upstart Aizen Sōsuke, if I am not mistaken. You have quite the interesting soul."

Kurosaki stiffened at the mention of his soul, but otherwise he held his ground admirably. "What do you mean interesting? You have a problem with me?" It was the 0 Division's turn to bristle. Wonderful. While his companions drew themselves up at the boy's attitude, Hyōsube laughed.

"Far from it, actually! Your soul is of an exceptionally rare composition. That's all. But enough about that," placing his hands on Kurosaki's shoulders, Hyōsube's face split in a frighteningly warm smile, "As the Captain-Commander requested, I would like to offer you the opportunity to train with the 0 Division in preparation for the upcoming battles."

"No offense, but I don't even know who you people are. How am I supposed to know if your training will be better than what I could get elsewhere?" Good man! Surely he would benefit much more from a visit to the 12th Division's labs. Or so Kurotsuchi would like to think. As much as he desired the opportunity to apply his research to an anomaly like Kurosaki Ichigo, Kyōraku had a reason for pushing the boy into this.

"Your hesitation is understandable. I'll give you an explanation, then." Hyōsube returned to the other 0 Division members and started moving down the line, "Receiving training in our palaces is akin to having your home furnished by the most skilled artisans around. Kirinji will ensure that your body is in the best possible condition. Hikifune here will boost your constitution beyond what you may have thought was your limit. Shutara will provide you with clothing that will protect you better than any armor, and Nimaiya will re-forge your Zanpakuto, greatly increasing its power. As for myself," Hyōsube planted himself in front of the others with his arms crossed and his chin raised, "I will grant you oneness; a sense of completion that will leave your spirit strengthened beyond what you've ever experienced." The banner and instruments reemerged from Shutara's robes and blared a fanfare, adding an obnoxious punctuation to the Head Priest's lecture. "How does that sound?"

Aside from the ridiculous noise, that all sounded rather beneficial. Kurosaki Ichigo was one of their greatest assets, substitute or not, and putting him through a regiment like that would yield very interesting results indeed. To witness the process of that boy being elevated by something very close to divine will would be an invaluable experience. But what did the boy himself think?

His head of spiky orange hair swiveled to Kyōraku, clearly searching for guidance, but the Captain-Commander's face was entirely unreadable. A wise move, all things considered. He couldn't appear to be pushing Kurosaki into this decision. Make him look too much like a pawn, and Hyōsube would wrench him from their hands and use him for his own purposes. The Head Priest could be shockingly inhuman when it suited him. Fitting for one so ancient.

Turning back to face the 0 Division once more, Kurosaki Ichigo hesitated. He was unsure of the path he should take, without a doubt. But still, he clenched his fists, held that unease down, and spoke directly to the leader of the 0 Division like an impertinent brat, "How long would this training take?"

"A few days, perhaps. A week, at most," the Head Priest took the boy's rudeness in stride, "It all depends on your own aptitude."

"And what if that's too long? What if the enemy attacks again while I'm stuck training with you?" A good question, but Kurosaki was pushing his luck. Hesitate too long, and the door forward might just slam shut in his face.

"That is a very real possibility. Should that occur, though, you would still be expected to finish your training." Kurosaki tried to object, but Hyōsube raised a hand to silence him, "Let us say that the Quincies resume their invasion mid-training. At best, you'd be exhausted. So much so that any growth you achieve would be rendered useless. At worst, your soul would be in a state that would leave you unable to fight at all."

Kurosaki glared at the members of the 0 Division. His young blood was apparently clouding his judgment. "If that's the case, then why should I even bother going with you at all? We can't afford to take risks like that in this situation!"

"Not true at all," Hyōsube laughed, "This is exactly the time to take such risks! You've heard my explanation already, so why don't we ask the Captains what they think? If you can't take my word, surely theirs would be worth a considerable amount." The jolly monk gestured to the Captains gathered behind Kurosaki, "Well? You've all rejected our generous offer, but can you say that you did so because you didn't think it would help? Was it not pride that made your decision?"

No one said a word. When Kurosaki's eyes passed over them, they looked away or returned his questioning gaze with one of apology and shame. Kurotsuchi didn't bother. He met the boy's eyes without so much as a hint of shame. Pride was nothing to be ashamed of. That would be silly.

"Silence, then. Is that not as good as open acknowledgment? The Captains of the Gotei 13 recognize the value of our training. What do you say now, Kurosaki Ichigo?" Hyōsube's voice boomed with a sense of finality. If he didn't accept now . . .

"Alright, fine." The orange haired young man scratched his head. He had the look of a man whose arm was being viciously twisted. "I'll accept your offer, but only if you allow me to leave if and when I choose to. I won't allow myself to be held back if my friends are in danger. Not anymore." The intensity of his voice matched his fiery hair quite nicely.

"A foolish request, but we accept." Shocking everyone, Hyōsube gave his approval. Given that Kurosaki wanted permission to throw away the fruits of the 0 Division's labor, it would have been more believable if the poor boy had been excommunicated for making demands like that.

Taking advantage of everyone else's disbelief, Kurotsuchi stepped forward, clapping his hands in congratulations. He could not allow this opportunity to pass. "Wonderful, wonderful! I'm so happy that you were able to come to an agreement. I'm sure our young substitute here will benefit beyond expectation in the hands of the mighty 0 Division!" He laid it on thick to satisfy their larger-than-life egos. "I suppose you will be taking Kurosaki Ichigo to the realm of the Soul King to begin his training? In that case, I will accompany him. It would do the boy good to have a familiar face there to cheer him on, I think." And it would do Kurotsuchi good to observe the methods of the Royal Guard. Think of the wonders he might be able to appropriate just by seeing them! It almost made him drool.

His fantasies were shattered with a booming laugh, however. "The realm of the Soul King? That's preposterous! Do you think a mere substitute stands anywhere near high enough to gain my permission to enter the _Reiōkyū_?" The other members of the 0 Division laughed and snickered as well. Fine. They could make him the butt of their jokes all they liked, just as long as he got to observe Kurosaki's training. "In all seriousness," Hyōsube continued, "we don't plan on returning to the Soul King's palace until this whole ordeal is at an end. As for how we will provide support . . ." The Head Priest clapped his hands above his head, the sharp noise lingering in the air. Seconds passed with no apparent change, but then a tremendous spiritual pressure crashed down all around. Kurotsuchi's wide eyes were drawn to the sky.

Emerging from the clouds above, five massive structures descended, drifting gently despite their size towards the Seireitei. Coming to a stop in the air, they formed a wide ring that would just fit inside the walls were they to land.

"Be grateful, Captains of the Gotei 13, for we have descended from on high to assist you!" Hyōsube's voice boomed, drowning out Shutara's obnoxious fanfare. It was impossible to ignore the weight of those words, seeing this.

Right before their very eyes the sky changed. The Shakonmaku barrier that surrounded the Seireitei was summarily stripped away and replaced by a shield too strong to properly assess without specialized equipment. Traveling to the Soul King's palace was not going to happen, unfortunately, but this was almost as good!

"A marvelous display! You've done us a great service, haven't you, 0 Division?" Kurotsuchi rubbed his hands together. He wasn't nervous, never that, but he was walking a fine line now. His goal of observing the methods of the Royal Guard was well within reach, but depending on their moods, he could still be denied. The tension made him shake. He might even explode if he waited any longer. "I suppose we should stop wasting time, then? No more need for formalities, yes? Then we should begin right away. Come along, Kurosaki Ichigo."

The most effective course of action now was to keep everyone off balance by keeping his own pace. Don't give them time to think and they won't be able to turn him away. He shuffled past the Head Priest, placing himself among the members of the 0 Division, but a pair of beefy digits wrapped around his shoulders, stopping him in his tracks.

"You are quite right, Division 12 Captain, there is no time to waste. However, _you_ will not be coming along." Hyōsube turned him around to look down into his eyes. The lack of any depth in those bulging orbs stoked a cold, primal fear in Kurotsuchi's chest. "Even had the Captains accepted our offer, you alone would not have been permitted to participate. And before you ask, you know full well why that is." Even captivated as he was by the blankness of Hyōsube's expression, Kurotsuchi could hear Shutara snickering softly to herself, and that cold fear boiled into searing indignation.

The Head Priest added to the humiliation by lifting him up and moving him aside like . . . like some sort of lowly piece of furniture! "We will be retiring to our palaces now. For now, please return to each of your Divisions and make whatever preparations you like. Our support will begin shortly. You are coming, Kurosaki Ichigo?" Hyōsube beckoned the boy, and after taking a moment to steel his resolve, he followed.

The other Captains turned their own way and stalked off in various states of distress. Most left quietly, while a select few kicked at the ground and mumbled angrily to themselves. Not Kurotsuchi, though he felt something akin to their frustration. If he ever got his hands on any one of those haughty Royal Guards when Soul Society was not in peril, he would make them pay dearly for humiliating him.

He watched them leave with a cool head, eyes fixed on Kurosaki's back until he and the 0 Division vanished from view.

\+ Break +

"Welcome back, Mayuri-sama." Nemu's greeting and deep bow did nothing to quell Kurotsuchi's fury. In fact, it only made it worse. She had a way of doing that, as of late. Perhaps a recalibration was in order. That way, he could . . .

No. That was a minor irritant now. There were far more important things to concern himself with. Namely, how would he beat those snobbish Royal Guards? Oh, he could undoubtedly outdo Kirinji and Hikifune; the modifications he could supply the Seireitei's forces would be significantly more potent than any healing or strengthening those two could accomplish, and he'd already proven his ability to modify Zanpakuto to match Nimaiya's supposed "unique gift". The Head Priest posed an issue, though Kurotsuchi's research into the nature of souls couldn't be far off from enabling him to replicate whatever support the old monk could offer.

The real problem, then, was that devil, Shutara Senjumaru. Loath as he was to admit it, that woman got under his skin like no one else could. No matter the depth of his machinations or the cleverness of his schemes, she always seemed to see through him and untangle whatever mess he made for her like it was nothing. If he couldn't make her kneel, then his triumph over the other members of the 0 Division would be meaningless.

Kurotsuchi's jaw rocked side to side grinding his teeth. He stepped up to a console with a large, multi-faceted monitor, and his fingers stormed across the keyboard, calling up old records from ancient archives to supplement the countless experiments he was to review and act on. It was painfully redundant to mull over the little details like this, but he needed a distraction. By occupying his conscious mind, he would free his brilliant intellect to digest the problem at hand.

Yes, of course . . . if losing to just one of them meant losing to all of them, then all he needed to do was beat them all at once. Genius! How fortunate, then, that all five members of the 0 Division were working on a single project. If he could just find a way to wrestle Kurosaki from their clutches. No, no, that wouldn't qualify as a proper victory. The boy needed to finish his training first, _then_ Kurotsuchi could swoop in and _improve_ on their designs! There would be no doubt about anyone's place after that. That left him with a lot of free time, though.

"Nemu, come here." The girl obeyed, readily accepting the monitoring device he handed her. "I'll be running a diagnostic. Hold still." The monitor flashed with a torrent of information. Data about Nemu's bodily functions and senses slid across the screen faster than most could interpret.

There weren't any significant changes from the last time he scanned her. A few new experiences here, an aberrant thought there, nothing worthy of note. This little ritual was almost relaxing in that way. Settling one's mind by reviewing what you know well was a nice way to kill time after all.

But when was the last time he saw significant growth or change in Nemu? It would have been when Aizen Sōsuke plotted against the Soul Society some years ago, certainly. Kurotsuchi's own encounters with the Arrancar at the time yielded a plethora of new discoveries that he quickly applied to the Nemuri Project.

Kurotsuchi's fingers froze mid-stroke. It had been a while since he last actively worked on Nemu, but he couldn't even remember the last time he consciously thought about the project that produced her. The data was all there, information from the experiments before Nemu's creation, locked away in his brain, but it seemed pointless to waste his attention on those failures.

Stretching his hands, he resumed typing, reorganizing data in a way that seemed most intuitive in the moment. This was the information he should focus on now. He'd already applied the lessons learned from the first six attempts. He could forget about them. He had the crystallization of all of his efforts right beside him. She was his magnum opus. There was no more room to improve. She was . . .

"That's enough, Nemu." Kurotsuchi stared into the now blank monitor. He didn't like the look of his reflection. It almost looked contented, and that made him feel ill. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his temples in a vain attempt at soothing a developing headache. A wasted effort. It would be faster to just release the pressure in his skull. Before he could reach a syringe to alleviate the pain in his head, however, he was interrupted.

"Mayuri-sama. We have a visitor," Nemu reported as if he hadn't already noticed. Sure enough, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Those were boots, not the sandals worn by Shinigami. Coupled with the lack of Reiatsu, that made their guest a Quincy. Still an odd thought, being visited by a member of a group he once thought he was responsible for exterminating. When Ishida Uryu walked through the door, though, Kurotsuchi couldn't help but feel disappointed.

He made very little effort to hide his irritation as he welcomed his guest, "You're back, I see. I assume you have a good reason to enter uninvited, boy?"

"I suppose you could say that," the Quincy sighed, adjusting his glasses. "I would like to strike a deal with you, Captain. A trade. I want you to help me get stronger."

"A trade, you say? A laughable notion. You have nothing to offer me." With a wave of his hand, Kurotsuchi dismissed the misguided young man. He didn't have the time nor the patience to deal with a test subject that had no idea what they were getting into.

But the fool didn't leave. "I offer myself up as collateral. You wouldn't let an opportunity to study a Quincy like me so easily, would you?"

"Do you fancy yourself some sort of rare beast? If you haven't noticed, Ishida Uryu, Quincies are quite plentiful these days. Had I need of one I could reach out my hand and pluck one from almost anywhere in the Seireitei. And that is beside the point that I've long since exhausted all avenues of study regarding the Quincy." That wasn't entirely true-reports indicated that the so-called Sternritter possessed abilities that were unobtainable by the general Quincy ranks-but he didn't need to know that.

"You're lying!" The impudent child raised his voice, "When I called Haschwalth 'Lord' you realized there was more to the brainwashing than you first thought. Don't try to deny it!"

A sudden jolt of pain brought Kurotsuchi's fingers back to his temple. This conversation was doing nothing for his health. He could toss this little whelp out with a gesture to Nemu, but a sudden urge to be spiteful stayed his hand. "You know what? You're right. I _did_ wonder if there was something I had missed. And then I realized how ridiculous that is! In the heat of the moment I read far too much into a gullible child misspeaking. Now, since I obviously wasn't clear enough before, let me reiterate; I have nothing more to learn from the Quincies. Furthermore, I have nothing left to learn from you!"

The boy opened his mouth to talk back, but Kurotsuchi wasn't about to give him enough time to even breath.

"I had a discussion with your friend Kurosaki before reviving you. He was concerned for your safety, so I decided to put his mind at ease. It was simple, really. All I had to do was be honest. Do you want to know what I told him? I told him that you, Ishida Uryu, are worthless to me. You're spent! A _husk_ with nothing more to contribute!" He had to stop and catch his breath. Really, he should stop altogether. Taking all of his stress out on this child might be satisfying to a certain extent, but it was just as bad for his health as letting the boy pester him.

The way Ishida's face contorted in frustration was indeed pleasing, but the young fool still didn't budge. He didn't expect the Quincy to whine and cry, but he at least wanted him to storm off in a huff. He just stood there, clenching his fists and glaring at his shoes. Kurotsuchi was about to give him another tongue lashing when he finally moved.

Raising his head and redirecting those angry eyes at Kurotsuchi, Ishida spoke with a quivering voice, "You told Kurosaki that I was worthless?" Was he . . . smiling? "If that's the case, then you wasted your breath! That idiot has a way of getting under people's skin, you know, and once he gets there he pushes people to see things his way. It's more than a little annoying, most of the time, but in this instance I'm happy to say that he got to me. I won't give up so easily. Not while my friends believe in me."

What a bad joke. It was so bad it made the painful thumping in Kurotsuchi's head faster and harder. His friends_ believed_ in him? What did that matter? It was infuriating, so infuriating in fact, that he was sorely tempted to simply kill this little fool and put him out of his misery!

He stayed his hand once more. The last thing he wanted right now was to give Kurosaki Ichigo a reason to hold a grudge. If he had any hope of outdoing the 0 Division, then he needed to keep his relationship with the substitute Shinigami amicable. So he stood up, slowly, so as not to threaten the unhinged Quincy. He held his hands behind his back and took a deep breath. Calm. Reasonable.

"Listen to me, Ishida Uryu," if the little shit still didn't listen to him, then he would simply have to sedate him and toss him out. "You are a mere Quincy. You possess a respectable level of strength, but your potential is extremely limited. Unlike Kurosaki Ichigo, you have a simple human Quincy's soul. Without his unique disposition, you would have to train for decades-perhaps even centuries-to catch up. Possessing traits from Shinigami, Human, Hollow, _and_ the Quincy is what makes him strong, so unless you . . ." Kurotsuchi trailed off, his jaw hanging open. His mind raced as if to solve the puzzle that had been burdening him.

Why hadn't he considered this before?!

Kurosaki Ichigo was in the clutches of the 0 Division. In all likelihood, he would remain there until the fighting started up again, giving Kurotsuchi no time to convince him to consent to experimentation. Choosing to improve the 0 Division's work was an impossibility from the start.

But what if he had his own Kurosaki Ichigo?

Nemu would be the closest to Kurosaki in terms of disposition, but he couldn't sacrifice her at this stage, not when she was so closed to perfection.

Ishida Uryu, on the other hand, was expendable. More importantly, he was _willing_ to undergo modification! Using the data he had already gathered from their previous encounters, Kurotsuchi could make quick work of him. The way things were falling into place almost made him drool.

Closing his mouth, he shuffled over to the young Quincy and placed his hands on his shoulders before the lad could make a move. "I must apologize. I wasn't considering the bigger picture. If you do this, you will surely experience pain like you've never imagined. Do you truly wish for me to help you get stronger?" Ishida's curt nod sent shivers up Kurotsuchi's spine. "Good, good. With your consent, I think we should get started right away."

Calmly, ever so calmly, Kurotsuchi led Ishida deeper into his research facility. The boy couldn't know the horrors that awaited him, nor was he likely to understand the depth of potential that would be awakened within, but he already made his willingness plain.

No matter how torturous it was. No matter how twisted his body became. No matter how unrecognizable the soul of Ishida Uryu would be at the end, Kurotsuchi Mayuri would not stop. Pride was a factor, to be sure. There was no denying it. He would beat the 0 Division by creating an anomaly that surpassed Kurosaki Ichigo. And in doing so, he would save the Seireitei from further devastation!


End file.
